Amoroso
by Gindokei
Summary: Edward can't play the piano. Winry can. The solution? Winry teaches Edward, of course - and he slowly discovers exactly what he feels for her. The progress of a relationship through a series of piano lessons. No spoilers. Complete!
1. Piano

_Amoroso_

**AN: This is just a collection of short one-shots(yes, again!) about Edward, Winry and piano lessons. Because I think it's way too cute to resist! Slight mention of one of my previous stories, _Play For Me_. (By the way, the title means _loving_ in Italian - it****'****s sometimes used as a performance direction in piano pieces.)  
**

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** does not belong to me!**

**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE: Piano

It was a quiet day in Resembool, as all days were apt to be. In the Rockbell home, two teenaged brothers were busy doing nothing. Edward was sprawled across the couch, a leather-bound alchemy tome covering his eyes, while Alphonse was curled up in an armchair, staring dreamily across the room. After the hectic events of the last few years, both Elric brothers were more than happy to take things easy – even Edward, who usually 'got all fidgety' at the thought of actually relaxing.

They had returned to Resembool three weeks earlier, after Alphonse had been let out of the military hospital in Central. The damage to his body hadn't been anything irreparable, and the boy's pure joy at having his body back more than compensated for the gruelling months he'd spent in the hospital, reusing atrophied muscles and generally restoring his body back to its original physique.

After a period of time – neither of them could bother to remember the exact time anymore – Alphonse spoke up, turning his eyes to his napping brother. "Big brother... where do you think Winry went?"

Edward's only response was a snore. Alphonse bit back a smile at the sight of his ever-messy older brother, his stomach predictably uncovered. It was then that his ears picked up the soft sound of a piano being played.

Alphonse smiled fondly, remember the time he'd taken an impromptu piano lesson from his childhood friend. Her notes sounded more certain – maybe she'd gotten a chance to get some sheet music during one of her visits to Central. Alphonse hopped out of the armchair and lightly jostled his brother.

Edward awoke with a start, his words barely coherent as he grumbled at his brother. Alphonse rolled his eyes and grinned teasingly.

"You can't sleep the entire day away, big brother. C'mon, I want to show you something!"

Edward swung his legs off the couch and got to his feet, digging into his ear with one finger. "What's that?" he questioned, albeit in a slightly slurred voice. "Sounds like music."

"That's what I want to show you – hurry up!"

Alphonse led his brother to the small guest room on the ground floor of the Rockbell home. Edward stood at the doorway as Alphonse ventured in and sat next to the blonde mechanic on the piano bench. Winry paused, her fingers hovering over the keys as she turned to smile at her friends.

"Hey, guys. Did you finally get bored of just hanging around?" she teased gently, eying Edward quizzically. The young alchemist still hadn't ventured into the room, and while Alphonse was more than comfortable with his surroundings, Edward seemed strangely hesitant.

"Something wrong, Ed?" she questioned, and Alphonse turned to stare at his brother. Edward blinked and shook his head.

"No, nothing... it's just... I don't remember this being here," he responded quietly. Alphonse laughed, and Winry smiled indulgently as she covered the keys.

"I don't blame you – I didn't remember it, either," Alphonse admitted. "But we used to play here sometimes. Remember?"

Edward frowned at his younger brother. "You sound like you've been here recently," he spoke dubiously. Alphonse nodded, a gleam of mischief sparkling in his golden eyes.

"A couple of months ago... I came here at night when Winry was playing. She gave me a lesson!"

Winry bumped her shoulder against the younger Elric brother's. "You were pretty good, too! Let's see if you remember, shall we?" She uncovered the keys again and got to her feet to let Alphonse take up the entire bench. The boy squinted in concentration as he picked out an easy melody on the keys, his fingers stiff and uncertain.

"Not bad at all, since you didn't have much time to practice!" Winry praised, beaming at Alphonse. The younger Elric brother ducked his head, blushing slightly.

"It's fun. I like being able to make music, just like that."

"Why don't you give it a go, Ed?" Winry turned to the older Elric brother with an encouraging smile on her face – a smile that faded at the expression on Edward's face. She couldn't quite make it out, but he didn't seem terribly excited to try.

Edward set his jaw and surprised her by saying "Sure, why not?" He moved towards the small upright and sat down, jostling his brother to get more room. With a look of utter concentration on his face, Edward flexed his fingers and abruptly slammed them down on the keyboard, creating a jarring combination of notes. Alphonse winced, and Winry clapped her hands over her ears. Edward continued to pound down on the keys, looking completely determined. Finally, Winry decided she had to stop him – in a subtle way, of course.

"Stop!" she shouted, moving towards him and yanking his hands off the keys. "You'll break it, you idiot!"

Edward looked startled and wrenched his hands out of her grasp. "What are you talking about?" he protested. "I was just doing what Al was doing!"

"Brother, maybe you shouldn't be so rough with it," Alphonse suggested, his ears still ringing from Edward's attempt at playing the instrument. Edward scowled at his younger brother and folded his arms across his chest.

"It sounded fine," he muttered sullenly. Winry fought back a grin at Edward's sulking face and shook her head, leaning forward a little so that her fingers could brush the keys.

"You just need practice," she reassured him, trying to stop laughing. Edward glared at her, looking as if he couldn't decide whether to be insulted or not.

"Fine, then _you_ show me how to do it," he challenged. Winry let one last giggle escape her and straightened, smiling confidently down at the young man.

"I was just about to suggest the same thing," she replied. "Your lessons start tomorrow."

* * *

**AN: Just a little intro-type thing. Slow, boring, but the thought of Ed being violent with a piano made me laugh. xD**

**The chapter title doesn****'t refer to the actual instrument - it refers to the Italian word for ****'soft'. Another performance direction!**


	2. Arioso

_Amoroso_

**AN: Any pieces mentioned throughout this story will be actual piano pieces – the composer's name might be tweaked with, though!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**.**

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER TWO: Arioso

"Do I really have to do this?" Edward griped as he stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom, his arms folded and his mouth set in a stubborn line. "I wasn't serious. I don't need to learn how to play the piano, for goodness' sake."

"You're the one who asked for it, Ed," Winry replied sweetly, beckoning him closer. "And in order to play the piano, you kind of need to be able to reach the keys." She didn't realize the insinuation behind her words until Edward turned red in the face.

"Are you saying I'm too short to reach the keys?!"

"Ed!" Winry sighed. "_No_. I just meant you need to be closer to the instrument. Preferably sitting here, next to me. And there's no need to get so annoyed about people calling you 'short', you're not even that short anymore."

Edward eyed her warily but decided to take her advice. He inched closer, studying the instrument through guarded eyes. "Then why is Al here?"

Alphonse was perched on the small bed in the room, grinning from ear to ear. "Did you really think I was going to miss this?" the younger brother asked, chuckling. "I want to see big brother playing the piano!"

Edward huffed and put on a martyred look as he settled down on the piano bench. "Okay, show me how it's done," he spoke grudgingly.

Winry gave him a sideways grin and focused her attention on the keyboard, softly touching a few of the keys. "The piano has seven keys, named after the first seven letters of the alphabet," she started. "This," she pressed one key, "is A. The next is B, then C, and then so on."

Edward frowned down at the ivory keys, absently noting the slenderness and sureness of Winry's fingers. "So... they keep repeating, over and over again?"

"Yup." Winry nodded. "A piano has seven octaves, but the lower two are rarely used – at least, in the pieces I've seen. The highest one is pretty rare as well. The mostly commonly used octave is this one." She pressed down on the first A she'd played and on another one, exactly seven notes higher. "It includes middle C, which is the common reference point."

Edward tried to pay attention to what Winry was saying, but his heart wasn't in it. He didn't really want a lecture on the piano – he'd made a fool of himself the previous day, and he was in no hurry to repeat the feat. Winry noticed his restlessness and smiled, shaking her head.

"Where's the famous Elric concentration I've heard so much about?" she chided him gently. Edward blinked and snapped himself out of his daze.

"Umm..."

Winry breathed out gently. "But seriously, Ed. Learning a musical instrument is always a nice thing, but I don't want to force you to do this. If you're _really_ not interested, just hang it." Winry glanced away from the young man's face and at the sheet music propped up on top of the keyboard. Taking a shallow breath, she started to play.

Edward watched her curiously. Since he was sitting so close to her, he could see the way her eyes narrowed slightly as she concentrated on the music, and how the lines in her face seemed smoother and less apparent. Her stance was more relaxed, and she leaned into the piano, as if bending over a baby's cradle.

Edward flushed slightly at the comparison and turned his attention to the music she was playing, averting his gaze from the girl and focusing it on the sheet in front of her.

The dots and sticks made no sense to him, but the sound that came from the instrument was wonderfully soothing and flowed flawlessly. He lowered his eyes and studied her fingers as they pressed down on the keys, wondering at how such a small force could produce such a beautiful sound. Logically, he knew how a piano worked – he'd read up a little on it the previous night, and he knew how the sound was produced – but there was something about the wooden instrument that defied his scientific mind.

"I'm serious about this, Winry," he spoke abruptly. Startled, Winry's fingers slipped off the keys, and she turned to look at him quizzically. "I... I want to learn how to play. Really."

Winry's eyes brightened. "You do? Are you sure?"

If he hadn't been sure earlier, Alphonse thought in amusement, Edward was definitely sure now. The younger Elric brother stretched out comfortably on the bed, his stomach pressing against the mattress and his chin propped up by his two hands.

He knew he hadn't imagined the softness in his brother's gaze.

* * *

**AN: Not as long as the introduction, but the next one should be longer – Edward's **_**real**_** first lesson! Chapter title means 'melodious', according to my references!  
**


	3. Bisbigliando

_Amoroso_

**AN: Sorry for not updating****–**** I had exams! But I****'****m free now. (:  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**.**

**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: Bisbigliando

"I think it'd be better if you were the only one sitting at the piano," Winry suggested, getting to her feet. "Before anything else, you should kind of get a feel for the instrument, you know?"

Edward looked down at the keys, uncertainty clear on his face. "If you say so," he muttered, touching one of the black keys experimentally. The sound that came out was strange – it sounded almost off-tune, compared to the white keys. Frowning, Edward pressed a white key and then a black one, nodding to himself. It definitely didn't sound the same.

"Winry?" The blonde mechanic turned to Alphonse, who was still sprawled across the bed. "Do you really have time to give big brother lessons? I mean, I'm sure he appreciates it and everything," Edward coughed discreetly, "but don't you need to get back to Rush Valley? You've been away so long."

Winry's forehead creased with worry. "That's true... Mr. Garfiel hasn't called yet, but I'm sure he's pretty upset with my unplanned leave... my _long_ unplanned leave." She glanced at Edward and smiled at the sight of him tentatively pressing different keys, one at a time.

"Then let's do one thing," she spoke, and Edward's head turned towards her. "One week. I'll teach you for one week, and then I should go back to Rush Valley. I'll call Mr. Garfiel and let him know – I'm sure he won't begrudge me one more week." She winced internally – he probably would. Garfiel was an easygoing person, but he was strict when it came to the art of auto-mail, and Winry was sure he'd have extra work in store for her. Nonetheless, seeing Edward express an interest in something non-science-related was just too heart-warming – she wanted to do this for him. To show him that there was beautiful things in the world, things that couldn't be defined and restricted by science. She wanted to open his mind to the loveliness of the artistic world. Maybe he would find something to believe in.

"One week, huh?" Edward shrugged. "Whatever."

Winry sighed. He would never change.

"Okay, so I told you about middle C, right? It's the reference point. Now, an octave is going from one note to the same note, only higher or lower. Like this." Winry pressed down on middle C and then moved the same finger up the octave, until she came to a note eight keys higher.

"Ah, I see," Edward nodded. "So it's called an 'octave' since there are eight notes involved, and 'oct', of course, refers to..." His voice faded mid-sentence at the exasperated look Winry gave him.

"_Ed_! You can't start analyzing things like that," she complained. Edward bristled at her words.

"Why not? What's wrong about trying to figure out the origin of a word?"

"Because you'll never be able to start playing if you get so wrapped up in small stuff like that!"

"That's a weak argument and you know it! I can play just fine!"

"Sure, if you call trying to kill the keys 'just fine'!"

Alphonse shook his head. "Maybe this was a bad idea..."

Winry took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, crossing her arms and shifting her stance slightly. "Fine. Fine. Do whatever you want," she muttered. "So the notes I played also constitute a scale, C major. There are major and minor scales – each major scale has a minor scale that corresponds to it."

"What's the difference?" Edward was curious to know.

"Um, I think it's to do with the placement of tones and semi-tones. That's what mom always said. Plus, you'll be able to tell fairly easily by the sound." She played a series of notes, and the overall tone sounded melancholy. "See, minors sound much sadder than majors."

"Okay." Edward wanted to ask her more, but he resolved to look it up somewhere later. He hadn't wanted to start the lessons in the first place, but Winry's words were beginning to interest him.

"Okay, now put your right hand here, thumb on middle C." Winry bent over Edward's shoulder and moved his fingers around until they sat perfectly on the white keys. Edward watched her warm, flesh fingers interacting with his cool metal ones. They were confident and self-assured – she'd _made_ his fingers, after all.

"Now, play middle C!" Edward pressed down with his thumb and heard the note ring out. "Next one, next one!" He played the next note, D, with his pointer finger, and then E with his middle finger. It was then that Winry stopped him.

"Okay, this is where it becomes a little different. You don't play the fourth and fifth notes with your fourth and fifth fingers – you let your thumb pass underneath your hand and play F with your thumb. After that, the rest is the same."

Edward nodded, doing as she had instructed and playing the next note with his thumb. He took his fingers all the way up to the higher C and then stopped.

"Okay, now what?"

Winry laughed. "Now you have to go back down. It's not a complete scale unless you do that. You use the same fingering, okay?"

Edward blew irritably at his bangs, and Winry reached out to tuck some of his hair behind one ear. "Concentrate," she ordered. Edward swallowed and complied, but his temple still burned from Winry's touch.

Since when had she gotten so used to touching him? he wondered. They were childhood friends, of course, but she'd never done something like that before – tucked his hair behind his ear so carelessly. And she behaved like it was nothing new, like she did it all the time.

Edward didn't like the strange feelings that were causing his stomach to roil. They were uncomfortable, and they made it hard for him to concentrate on the keys in front of him. Finally, however, he completed the scale and lifted his hand off the keys.

"Yay! You played your first scale!" Winry cheered and hugged him from behind. Edward stiffened in shock at her touch, but by the time he thought of reciprocating, Winry had already ended the embrace. He turned to look up at her.

"Congratulations," she smiled, and Edward smiled tentatively in reply.

* * *

**AN: I did say these would be pretty short! Although there will be seven days, that doesn't mean there'll be only six more chapters, because Winry is going to be teaching Ed several different things in a day! The penultimate chapter will probably have Edward learning his first piece, and the last will be when Winry leaves for Rush Valley. If you would like Ed to learn something in particular, let me know. (:  
**

**Apologies to Alphonse fans – he's going to be a grinning spectator in most of this!**

**The chapter title means _whispering_ ****–**** it's a sound effect for a harp, I think.  
**


	4. Leggiero

_Amoroso_

**AN: Edward being a student is strangely compelling to write. The way he asks questions and basically over-dissects everything... is pretty cute.**

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** does not belong to me!**

**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: Leggiero

"That was great!" Winry clapped her hands together encouragingly, a bright smile on her face. "Okay, now scoot over. I think you've had enough time to acquaint yourself with the piano!"

Edward rolled his eyes but complied, shifting a fraction of an inch to his left. Winry frowned at his interpretation of her words and plopped herself down, almost sitting in his lap in the process. Edward spluttered unintelligibly as he hurriedly scooted to the opposite end of the bench. Winry, too, was quite red-faced as she settled down on the bench, fidgeting with her fingers and avoiding Edward's gaze. Alphonse chuckled to himself in amusement.

"Um," Winry cleared her throat and studiously observed the keys, "so, maybe we can move on to a minor?"

"Sure," Edward agreed, seeming strangely interested in his feet. Winry exhaled softly and raised her eyes, a blush still staining her cheeks as she gestured for Edward to move a little closer. He did so hesitantly.

"So, the minor that corresponds to C major is A minor," Winry spoke, pressing the A just below middle C. "There's basically two things you need to remember about minors: one is that they have the same key signature as their majors – I know, I'll get to that – and the second thing is that the second last note, or the seventh note, is always sharped."

Edward blinked.

"Sorry, I didn't get any of that."

"I know, that's what I'm coming to," Winry replied, waving one hand in the air aimlessly. "So, you noticed the black notes earlier, right?" Edward nodded and pressed one for emphasis. "That's right. The white keys here are each a _tone_ apart – they're all separated by a black key, apart from E to F and B to C. Those aren't a tone apart. The distance between a white key and a black key is normally a _semitone_. It's half a tone."

"Okay," Edward spoke cautiously, "I think I got that."

"Great!" Winry beamed. "So can you tell me what separates B and this note?" She pressed the black key just next to middle C. "This is called C sharp, by the way."

"Stop treating me like a little kid," Edward harrumphed. "It's obviously a tone. Why is it called C sharp?"

"Sharping a note means _raising_ it by one semitone, and flatting the note means _lowering_ it by one semitone. It's pretty easy to remember."

"Sure, you flatten things, they go down."

"That's... not really what I meant, Ed."

"Whatever. It makes it easier to remember for me."

"Okay, then." Winry took her hands off the keys and nodded to Edward. "Your turn. Remember, the seventh note has to be sharped!"

"Wait! You didn't explain what 'key signatures' are!"

"Not _now_, Ed! Be a little patient!"

"Fine," he grumbled, placing his right thumb on A. Winry gestured towards his left hand, and he stared at her in puzzlement.

"We're going to use your left hand, too. Put the little finger of your left hand on the A an octave lower."

Edward lifted his flesh hand and placed it on the keys as she had requested. "So... how do I do the left hand?"

"Play normally, with all five fingers. Then, once you've played the fifth note with your thumb, lift your first three fingers over the thumb and play the last three notes."

"You make it sound like acrobatics," Edward remarked with a grin. "Okay, let me try just the left hand once."

He played A minor with just his left hand, tentatively exploring the notes. When he had finished the scale, he let his hands slide off the keys and grinned widely.

"I did it!"

"So you did, but you're not done yet," Winry teased. "C'mon, let's see it with both hands!"

Edward gave her a quick nod and positioned his fingers on the keys. He played much more slowly the second time and tried to pay equal attention to both hands. His eyeballs started aching from flicking back and forth between the two hands.

Winry laughed. "Easy there! You don't have to look so tortured. Take your hands off and relax." When Edward failed to comply, she prodded him in the ribs. "I said, _relax_."

Grumbling, Edward dropped his hands off the piano and took an exaggeratedly loud breath. "Okay, I'm relaxed."

"Liar." Winry rolled her eyes. "It's just one scale! It's not the end of the world if you can't do it with both hands. We can try again later, or even tomorrow."

"No way!" Determination filled Edward with fire. "Edward Elric _never_ quits." He placed both hands on the keys once more and played the minor scale. Instead of trying to concentrate on both hands at the same time, he relaxed a little and let his fingers move naturally. They took him up the scale and back again, by which time he was laughing.

"See, I _told_ you I could do it!"

"I never doubted you," Winry smiled, ruffling his hair affectionately. Edward scowled and batted her hand away.

"What next?" he questioned, his facial expressions warring between interest and casual disinterest. Winry chuckled at his question and got up from the piano bench, stretching leisurely.

"Nothing for now. I think we've done enough for today." She glanced out of the window, where the sun was gradually moving towards the horizon. "It'll be dusk soon, anyway. And I'd hate to take up so much of your time!"

"It's not... taking up that much time," Edward muttered. Winry feigned shock.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say Edward Elric was actually... _interested_ in learning how to play the piano!"

Edward huffed and remained silent. Alphonse, who had fallen asleep on the bed some time ago, woke up and blinked blearily. "Oh, are you done, big brother?" He yawned and rubbed one arm across his face.

"Yeah, we're done," Edward responded, getting up and moving towards the bed. "You okay?"

Alphonse smiled sleepily up at him. "Of course. Although I think I want lessons from Winry one day, too."

Winry shook her head and laughed. "You already had one," she spoke in a mock-strict voice, "but," her voice becoming softer, "I'll give you one any time you'd like, okay?"

Alphonse wrinkled his nose at her. "You don't have to treat me like such a baby," he complained. Edward chuckled under his breath, and Winry scowled lightly.

"You Elrics are all the same," she grumbled teasingly. Edward and Alphonse exchanged knowing glances before turning back to Winry.

"We know, but you love us anyway, right?" they chorused. Winry sighed.

"And I can't, for the life of me, understand why."

* * *

That night, Edward felt restless. Alphonse was already snoring in the other bed, but Edward didn't feel sleepy at all. He got up and swung his legs off the bed, deciding to get something to eat from the kitchen. Maybe food would sooth his nerves.

He moved silently into the corridor, his bare feet softly slapping against the ground. He negotiated the stairs with utmost carefulness, wary of waking Alphonse, granny or Winry. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it definitely wasn't ten 'o' clock anymore.

He made himself an impromptu sandwich and munched on it as he proceeded back to his room. On the way, he passed by Winry's workshop, and noted with surprise that there was a crack of light spilling out of the door. He paused and stepped closer, managing to catch a glimpse of Winry bent over something on her work table. He studied her for a few minutes, wondering why she was up, but he finally decided that it was none of his business. She was probably working on some design or the other.

He was about to leave when he heard a choked sound escape her. Turning back to the crack in the door, Edward watched, aghast, as Winry's body slumped forward and she collapsed into quiet sobs.

* * *

**AN: What was Winry crying about, I wonder...? It won't be revealed for a while, unfortunately. But in the next chapter, Edward learns about scales with flats and sharps! (One thing I'm a little unsure about - would it be _sharpening_ a note, or _sharping_ it? 'Sharpening' sounds more grammatically correct, but I was just wondering, since my own teacher hasn't told me the exact verb!)  
**

**The chapter title meant **_**lightly**_**.**


	5. Semplice

_Amoroso_

**AN: Thanks for letting me know about it being 'sharping' and 'flatting', _AnimeCookie93_! I've corrected it in the previous chapter. (:**

**Plus, just a note to everyone - Winry might not explain everything perfectly, because she doesn't have a perfect musical knowledge. There are some things I know but she doesn't, merely because she learned from her mother, who learned from her own father, and therefore the knowledge is pretty basic and lacking in places.  
**

**Disclaimer: Own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**, I do not.**

**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE: Semplice

The sound of music woke Winry from her slumber. She stretched slowly, enjoying the warmth of her bed - since she'd only gotten to bed at around two 'o' clock, she'd slept like a log. The music played on – a series of notes, each successive note just one tone higher than the previous.

Realization suddenly struck her and she sat up abruptly, causing her blankets to fly off her bed and land on the ground. _What the hell is going on?_ she thought wildly, slipping off her bed and moving towards her door. _Who could that be...?_

"I should've known," she groaned minutes later, standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom. "_Ed_, you can't play the piano at," she glanced towards the clock in the bedroom, straining to make out the numbers with her sleep-hazed eyes, "six in the morning!"

Edward snorted. "But I couldn't sleep, and I thought I'd practice, to see if I'd forgotten anything. And I haven't! See?" And he played the A minor scale.

Winry sighed. "Only you could be so inconsiderate of everyone else," she grumbled. "The rest of us are _sleeping_!"

Edward had the grace to look guilty. "I know... I thought I was playing quietly. And besides, a teacher would usually be happy to see her student practicing so diligently!"

Winry's eyebrows rose, and she smirked gleefully. "Edward Elric, my student? Learning something from me? I like the sound of that," she laughed – or at least tried to, since her laugh was cut short by a yawn. Edward scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward and sorry for waking her. She must have gone to sleep fairly late. He sobered at the memory of the previous night.

"Winry, I..." He caught sight of what she was wearing and grinned, forgetting his guilt. "Nice pyjamas," he drawled, fighting back a chuckle. Winry glanced down at her duck-printed sleeping apparel.

"Yeah, sorry, my sexy lingerie was all in the wash," she shot back. Edward reddened noticeably at her retort, and Winry giggled at the look on his face. "You're such a little kid, Ed. Now keep it down, I'm going back to bed."

"Oh... okay." Edward nodded slightly, feeling a little disappointed. "Sleep well."

Winry paused, as if she'd noticed the shift in his emotions. "You okay?" she asked gently. Edward blinked and nodded vigorously.

"Yeah! Yeah, of course."

Winry scrutinized him for a while before heaving a sigh. "Okay, I get it, mister I'm too eager for my own good. Scoot over." She walked across the room and seated herself on the bench, running one finger lightly over the keys.

"I thought you were going back to sleep," Edward clarified, not sure whether to feel glad or annoyed. Winry smiled sweetly in reply.

"But I couldn't leave my disciplined disciple to practice all by himself, could I? C'mon, I'll teach you another scale. _Just one_, okay?"

"Sure." Edward struggled to contain his excitement. Despite himself, he was becoming more and more interested in the 'art' of playing the piano. He wasn't sure what exactly drew him to the instrument – maybe it was just the pretty sounds it made(yeah right, like he was that shallow...), or maybe it was something else.

Like getting to spend quality, wrench-free time with Winry?

_No way_.

"You remember what I told you about sharps and flats, right?" The sleepiness had faded from her voice, and she sounded chirpier and less sleep-deprived. Edward nodded.

"Yeah... sharps raise the note by a semitone and flats lower it by a semitone, right?"

"Mhm. Good job," she praised him, and Edward pretended to brush it off carelessly.

"I'm not a little kid."

"You sure act like one sometimes," she teased. "Like, oh, I don't know – five minutes ago?"

"That wasn't being childish, that was being..." He struggled to find a suitable word.

Winry hummed in response. "You keep telling yourself that." She studied the keys and searched her memories for a brief moment. "Okay, so the first scale with a sharp is G major – it has F sharp. Which one's F sharp?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to even _bother_ answering that."

Winry laughed. "Sorry, I guess I'm subconsciously following the lessons my mother taught me... I was only a little girl at that time, so she had to say these things to me, to make sure I was listening." Edward glanced over at the blonde girl, mentally preparing himself for the sight of a sad expression or a forced smile, but Winry was smiling gently. "I wouldn't give away those memories for _anything_."

The previous night rushed back at him, and Edward wondered again why Winry had been crying. He almost wanted to ask her, but he knew it was impolite – not to mention that he'd have to admit that he'd been sort of spying on her. What Winry cried about was her own business, he concluded.

_That's not true and you know it._

Edward sighed. The little voice in his head was speaking the truth – if Winry could be brave enough to take on other people's tears, why couldn't he?

"Ed? Hey, Ed, come back!" she joked, waving one hand in front of his face. "Come on, so you remember the fingering, right? Play G major for me?"

Edward blinked rapidly and nodded. "Yeah, uh, sure." He turned to the instrument and placed his right thumb on G, slowly progressing up the scale and back down.

"Okay, and now with the left hand!"

Edward yawned. He tried to make it discreet, but Winry caught the movement of his mouth and frowned slightly at him. He winced, wondering if she was about to blow him up for not paying attention.

"How much did you sleep last night?" she asked him. Edward's eyes widened in surprise. What, no wrench throws without waiting for an answer or explanation?

"Uh... I slept enough," he answered cautiously. Winry's frown deepened.

"If you're tired, maybe you should go back to bed," she suggested. "There's still a while before granny wakes up – no one will notice."

Edward turned to look at her and was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that she was clothed in only her pyjamas. He swallowed nervously and looked away, wondering at her new gentleness and concern.

Then he realized he wasn't really being fair to her. Winry had gone through a lot in the past few years, and those instances hadn't left her untouched. Of course she'd changed – what a childish idea, expecting her to hit him with mechanical tools forever. She'd matured, just like he had, and he was doing her a disservice by thinking of her as the same person she'd been ten, or even five years ago.

"I'm not sleepy," he replied in a quiet voice. "So... what's the scale with a flat in it?"

Winry studied him intently, not replying. Her gaze was frank and open, and not for the first time, he didn't feel like looking away. Finally, she broke contact and turned back to the piano.

"That'd be F major... see, it has B flat."

He watched her explaining the scale to him and corrected his previous assumption. Although he was not going to be ridiculous enough to think it was the _only_ reason he was taking these lessons, the fact that he was seeing a new side of Winry definitely played a big part. She wasn't impatient, and she didn't jump to conclusions. She didn't automatically assume that his yawning meant he was bored of her class. She was more self-assured in that way, it seemed.

"Ed? Can you do that for me?"

He didn't know what she'd said, but he answered anyway – "Of course."

* * *

**AN: I have no idea where this chapter came from... it sort of got a life of its own!**

**The chapter title means **_**simply**_**.**


	6. Comodo

_Amoroso_

**AN: Watch out for slightly dicey sentence structure near the end. I couldn't find a better alternative – sorry!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**... or the song mentioned near the end of the chapter.**

**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX: Comodo

"_Ed_! That's not how you play F major!"

"What? But I'm just doing it the way you showed me!"

"Argh, no, you're not! I told you – the fourth finger is always on B flat!"

"But I don't remember that!"

"Probably because you _weren't paying attention_!"

"I was paying attention!"

"Winry? Big brother?" Alphonse appeared in the doorway of the guest bedroom, yawning. "Can you keep it down, please?"

Both guilty parties turned scarlet at Alphonse's gentle reprimand and turned to face him. Winry looked exasperated and apologetic at the same time, while Edward just looked defiant.

"Sorry, Al... did we wake you?" Winry got up from the piano and walked over, ruffling the younger brother's hair affectionately. Alphonse ducked away from her and yawned again, shaking his head.

"Nah, it wasn't you," he said kindly, although both of them knew he was lying to be polite. "Actually, it was granny who sent me down... not even because of your decibel levels, believe it or not," Winry laughed, and Edward smirked, "but because she wanted to know if Ed is going for that party in the evening."

"Huh?" Edward looked bemused. "What party?"

"You remember, Ed – granny's friend Lucille's daughter just gave birth. It's Lucille's first grandchild!" Winry beamed. "You know, granny was beginning to think Francesca – that's the daughter, of course – was never going to have a baby, but luckily, she proved granny wrong."

Edward made a face. "Okay, _way_ too much information."

Winry rolled her eyes, and Alphonse added helpfully, "But aren't we scientists, brother? Stuff like birth shouldn't be a squeamish topic for you, right?"

Winry stifled a chuckle as Edward shrugged. "Um, well... I just keep remembering the last birth we were present for..."

"Aw, c'mon, that was fun, wasn't it?" Winry winked at Edward playfully. "Besides, the baby's already born this time, silly. So are you going to go, Ed? Al's going."

"So... I'd be at home alone if I chose not to go?" Edward remarked with a grin. Winry's smile faded.

"Scratch that. You don't have a choice, you're _definitely_ coming," she decided. Edward laughed at her worried expression and stood, placing the cover back on the piano keys.

"It'd be nice to see some old friends again, I guess," he admitted. "So, when are we going?"

Winry pursed her lips as she tried to remember. "I think granny said we'd leave by six-thirty, right, Al?" Alphonse nodded in agreement. "And _please_, dress neatly, okay? Your red coat is not allowed there, no matter how 'badass' it might look."

"Even if I wanted to wear it, I wouldn't be able to, since you took it and lost it," Edward complained. "I give you my coat and you lose it! That's really irresponsible, you know."

"You're a fine one to talk," Winry replied, grinning. "And anyway, you have about a billion more."

"Yeah, but that one was my favourite," Edward grumbled.

"But they're all the same, brother," Alphonse sighed. "You sound like a girl when you talk like that."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"Oh, just be quiet, you two," Winry sighed. "Remember, we leave at six-thirty – and no one wears any red coats! That goes for you, too, Al!"

* * *

Pinako Rockbell stood at the bottom of the stairs and peered upstairs, idly wondering what was taking the three youngsters. Winry, she could understand – girls always seemed to take a long time to get ready, and she'd been the same when she'd been her granddaughter's age. The Elric brothers, on the other hand...

"Hey, granny!" Edward came down the stairs, his golden hair gleaming wetly and tied back loosely. Mindful of Winry's threat earlier that day, he'd chosen to wear a pair of black pants and an 'acceptable' (in her words) button-down green shirt. Pinako smiled wryly and applauded.

"Well, don't you clean up well, half-pint?" she remarked. Edward scowled and chose to ignore her comment.

"Al's just coming. He was the one who forced me into the shower."

"All right. Winry!" Pinako called. "Will you be down soon, or should we leave without you?"

"No, no," came the reply – Winry sounded harried. "Sorry, I'll be right down!"

Alphonse came before Winry, his golden hair washed as well and clad in clothes similar to his brother's – pants and a button-down shirt. Finally, Winry scurried down the stairs, frantically pulling her hair back in a high ponytail.

"Sorry, sorry," she chanted under her breath. Edward snorted – he hadn't exactly expected her to dress up, but pants and a sweater? Really?

Winry glared at him. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Edward Elric," she warned, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. Edward feigned pain and slumped against his brother. Alphonse laughed and shoved Edward playfully, causing the older brother to let out another mock groan.

"Quit horsing around, youngsters," Pinako grumbled. "Lucille's place isn't exactly close by."

"Where is it, then, granny?" Edward questioned, following the Rockbell matriarch.

"In the middle of town. And since we live on the outskirts..."

Edward made a face. "Do I really have to go?"

"_Yes_," Winry, Pinako and Alphonse answered in unison. Edward chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

"I really wasn't planning on destroying the house, you know..."

* * *

"Ed!" a middle-aged woman cooed. "Look at you, growing so big and strong! Last time I saw you, you were only _this_ high!" The woman indicated a level just below her rather ample waist, and Edward resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"It's nice to see you again, auntie Gwen," he replied politely. Gwen Kiddington smiled widely, apparently pleased that he had remembered her name – as if he could forget it, after she'd repeated her name around fifty times when she'd first approached him.

"Ooh, and could that be young Al?" The woman peered around him at his younger brother, who was engrossed in conversation with a few other teenage boys. "Look at how splendid he looks! Just like a real man!"

Edward smiled weakly and tried to slip away unobtrusively. Auntie Gwen, however, was having none of that.

"I didn't reintroduce you to my darling children, did I? I do recall you all used to play together quite often!" Gwen turned and beckoned to a group of three teenagers. "Come over here, darlings – remember Edward Elric?"

Her children sauntered over, her only daughter being much quicker on the uptake than the two older brothers. Gwen beamed at them proudly.

"Hey," one of the boys greeted Edward laconically. "I'm James, dunno if you remember me and Keith here."

"James, huh." Edward pretended to think about it. "Would you happen to be that 'wet the blanket Jim' James? 'Cause I _definitely_ remember him."

James turned red, and his younger siblings snickered. "He got you there, huh, Jim," Keith commented with a grin. Edward smirked and shook their hands, glad that their mother had abandoned him for the time being.

"Ed!" Winry suddenly materialized by his shoulder. "Are you... oh, hey, Kimmy!" she greeted the Kiddington girl. "Reacquainting yourself with everyone, huh?" she commented, shooting Edward a playful smile.

"You bet," he replied smartly, releasing Keith's hand and letting his arm drop to his side. "I'd forgotten how overbearing country people could be."

"Grow up – you can handle chimeras, but not housewives?" Winry chided. Edward snorted and folded his arms, shrugging slightly.

"I don't exactly have good memories of housewives either, if you recall."

"What... oh, are you talking about your teacher again?"

The Kiddington siblings watched in amusement as Edward and Winry continued their teasing banter. Eventually, Kimmy interrupted them.

"Hey Winry, so I heard you still play the piano, right?" The younger girl's dark eyes gleamed in excitement. "Auntie Lucille has one here, and she was mentioning earlier that she wanted to hear you play. Are you up for it?"

"What?" Winry looked uncomfortable. "I mean... are you sure?"

"Positive!" Kimmy assured her, and dragged the blonde mechanic to an old upright stationed in one corner. "Hey, everyone," she called, turning to face the milling crowd, "Winry Rockbell's going to play something for us!"

Winry flushed, but she only shot Kimmy a playfully exasperated look as she uncovered the piano keys. The hum of voices died down as Winry touched the keys and began to play.

Edward stood nearby, watching her fingers move. There was no hesitation in her – she seemed almost _eager_ to play in front of everyone, not that she'd ever been shy in the first place. Her fingers didn't slip, and her body was relaxed, like it usually was when she played. The tune was haunting and wistful, and made him feel nostalgic.

Alphonse made his way to his brother's side and stood next to him. The two brothers watched their childhood friend perform to the crowd of people, and both felt unspeakably proud of her.

The notes became softer, and some people began to clap, probably assuming that Winry was drawing to a close – but she just smiled and continued playing. She began to sing gentle, foreign words.

_Prosti menya, mladshiy brat!__  
Ya tak pred toboy vinovat.__  
Pyitatsya vernut' nyelzya  
Togo, chto vzyala zyemlya._

_Kto znayet zakon Byitiya,  
Pomog byi mne nayti otvet.  
Zhestoko oshibsya ya;  
Ot smerti lekarstva nyet._

She continued to sing as her fingers moved across the keys. Her voice was pleasant, and while it was not stunningly melodious, it made Edward feel calm and at peace with himself.

When Winry finished, she did not cover the piano keys or wait for applause – instead, she got to her feet and beckoned Alphonse forward to whisper something in his ear. Alphonse looked delighted at what she had suggested and took her place at the piano, his expression nervous and determined and joyous at the same time. Haltingly, he started to play a popular Resembool nursery rhyme which soon had the entire room clapping along.

Winry came to stand next to Edward, a satisfied smile on her face. He patted her lightly on the back, muttering a hurried but heartfelt congratulations. Winry smiled serenely at him.

"Thanks," she replied, seeming a little abashed. "It was my first time singing the words – I hope I didn't get them wrong."

"What language was that, anyway?" Edward was curious to know. Winry folded her arms and watched Alphonse with a fond, motherly smile.

"Drachman. I found the music in a small shop in town, and I spent about three months learning it."

"It was... really nice," Edward remarked, wondering at how transformed Winry appeared after her performance. She just kept surprising him, didn't she? She was calmer, gentler, and generally much more ladylike than she usually was. Edward grinned inwardly at the thought, remembering how he'd always teased her about being 'uncute' and a machine geek.

"Thanks again. I love that song," she smiled in reply.

"How come?"

Winry appeared a little uncomfortable at his question, and Edward hastened to add, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay – it's just sort of childish, you know?" Winry sighed.

"It's because... well, it reminds me of you."

* * *

**AN: I see Winry as being much less afraid of conveying her feelings to Ed than vice-versa – maybe because she's already admitted it to herself.**

**Edward doesn't actually learn anything new in this chapter, but since there's only so many things he can learn, I figured one gap chapter wouldn't be too bad, right? And since **_**Bratja**_** is originally in Russian, and Drachma is supposed to be a lot like Russia, I just changed it to Drachman. x)**

**Chapter title means **_**comfortable**_**.**


	7. Penseroso

_Amoroso_

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_**.**

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER SEVEN: Penseroso

"Well, you and Al both, really," Winry continued, her expression calm and composed. How could she pretend like that, Edward wondered, how could she pretend that she hadn't just said something with enormous implications? "I had mister Figgs – he lives close by, and his father used to work in a branch of the State Library – to translate the song for me. It's about two brothers, and while it's sad, it's sort of hopeful, too." Winry smiled up at him, her eyes dancing. Edward blinked and nodded faintly in reply, his mind furiously working on the words she'd uttered just minutes before.

"_Because it reminds me of you."_

Maybe he was overreacting, Edward realized with a start. It wasn't unheard of for songs to remind someone of an old friend, right? And she'd even said it reminded her of _both_ of them – Alphonse and himself. So it probably didn't mean anything special.

Yeah. He was just overanalyzing it. Edward scratched at his nose and moved his gaze to his brother. Alphonse had just finished his piece and was standing, bowing shyly to the applause that filled the room. Winry clapped her hands together proudly, and Edward smiled at his brother as he applauded as well.

"When'd you learn how to play that?" he asked his brother as Alphonse walked over, gently punching him in the shoulder. "Sounded like you'd practiced a lot."

Alphonse beamed, looking extremely pleased with himself. "Not that much... at least, not in this body. Winry taught it to me that night we had our first class, remember?" Winry smiled and nodded. "And after that, I only practiced a few times... but it wasn't very hard to play." Alphonse ducked his head shyly.

"Oh come on, don't be so modest," Winry grinned, elbowing him lightly. "It wasn't the hardest piece, but it wasn't the easiest, either. I'm so proud of you!" She enveloped the younger Elric brother in a hug, ignoring Alphonse's protests. Edward laughed at the sight, and a few elderly ladies surrounding them chuckled as well.

"Acts like a doting mother, doesn't she?" one woman commented as Winry released Alphonse, only to ruffle his hair again.

"She certainly does – but only with the younger one, I've noticed," another woman replied. "I wonder if she likes him more? After all, he's much more polite and refined than his brother."

Edward's eyebrows rose at the comments, but he forced himself not to react. They were just gossiping old women – they had no idea what Winry was really thinking. Just because she hugged Alphonse and made a fuss over him didn't mean she favoured him in any way... it was how a big sister acted towards a younger brother. Nothing more.

He _really_ needed to stop over thinking all of this.

"You should play something, too, big brother," Alphonse suggested. Edward made a face and shook his head at the idea.

"I haven't even learned how to play a proper piece yet," he grumbled. Winry winked at him, grinning widely.

"That's for your last lesson, Ed! Not before!" she sang blithely. "But cheer up – I'm teaching you arpeggios tomorrow!"

"Joy," Edward deadpanned, even as a small smile crept across his face. "What's an arpeggio?"

"Nuh-uh," Winry shook her head, waggling a finger at him exaggeratedly. "I have to save something for the lesson, don't I?" Her eyes sparkled as someone else took the piano and began to play a gay dance. "C'mon, dance with me."

She tugged on Edward's arm, and he complied reluctantly. Most of the people cavorting about were at least thrice his age. He felt immensely awkward as Winry grasped his hands in hers, but his body loosened as the music took over, and he found himself grinning widely as Winry laughed excitedly. The sight of her, with her cheeks flushed and her hair wild, made his stomach do funny things. He'd never seen her like this before – so carefree, so joyous.

The music soon came to a stop, but the elderly women continued to dance without a tune, and Winry shot Edward a pleading look. He smiled resignedly and squeezed her hand gently.

"I won't let go," he promised.

* * *

"O-kay!" Winry clapped her hands together importantly. "So today, we're tackling arpeggios." She'd gotten up late after the previous night, but she was ready to go as soon as she'd had a few cups of coffee. Edward was secretly disappointed that she had had the presence of mind to change out of her pyjamas and into a pair of old shorts and a baggy shirt, but he chased the thought away as soon as it manifested itself, his cheeks burning. These feelings were new, and they made him feel uneasy at times.

"You forgot to mention what arpeggios are," Alphonse pointed out helpfully, sitting cross-legged on the guest room bed. His golden hair was tousled, but as soon as Edward had gotten out of bed, he'd been up.

"I'm not going to miss another one of your classes, brother," he remarked with a grin. "Not only is it a lot of fun... but I learn a lot, too!"

Edward rolled his eyes. Everyone seemed determined to make a fool out of him these days. Really, he reflected sourly, Winry and Alphonse were lucky he loved them so much. Anyone else and he would have lost it.

"Oh! Oh, that's true." Winry's hair was messy, too, and pulled back in a sloppy bun. Her two trademark strands of hair were tucked behind her ears. "Okay, move, Ed. I need to sit down, too."

Edward complied, and Winry took a seat. "Okay, so remember C major?"

"Sure." He played it for her, both hands moving surely across the keys. Winry beamed at him and patted his head proudly. Edward swatted her hand away.

"Okay, so in C major, the first note is C, the third is E and the fifth is G." Winry played the notes in sequence. "An arpeggio is basically playing these three notes, and then the eighth note. That would be C again here." She played the entire series of notes and came back down the arpeggio, her movements seemingly effortless. "You try."

Edward imitated her an octave lower, playing the arpeggio faster than she had. "That's easy," he scoffed. "I thought you were going to try to make things more challenging."

"Shut up," Winry replied with a slight scowl. "_I_ had problems with them, okay? Anyway, play G major arpeggio now."

Edward smiled triumphantly as his fingers moved across the keys easily. "Done," he said smugly. Winry raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Left hand," she prompted him, gesturing to the far left side of the keyboard. "Let's see if you can get the fingering right."

"If you're going to make me do everything by myself, what do I need you for?" he asked. Alphonse stifled a groan as Winry's eyes flashed.

"I wonder," she mused in a dangerously calm voice. "I suppose you could learn just as well from those books of yours, right? They wouldn't even talk back, would they? So much more convenient."

Edward exhaled sharply. "Don't be silly, Winry," he replied in a sharper tone than necessary, "you know that's not what I meant."

"No," Winry replied with dignity, "I don't." She got to her feet and moved towards the doorway, ignoring Alphonse's gentle voice.

"Winry! Winry," Edward called after her as she disappeared, feeling frustrated. What was _wrong_ with her? He'd made sarcastic remarks before, why was she getting so offended? He covered the piano keys with the cloth and glowered at the rich, dark wooden body of the instrument.

"Aren't you going to practice, brother?" Alphonse asked, unfolding his legs and jumping off the bed. He padded over to the piano and sat down next to his older brother, uncovering the keys again and playing middle C with one finger.

"No," Edward grumbled. "My teacher just ran away. I don't feel like it."

Alphonse played C major swiftly, and then moved on to F. "I don't think you said the right thing, brother, but I don't think Winry reacted in the right way, either. You're both too short-tempered for your own good."

"Is that supposed to help?" Edward replied scathingly. Alphonse's mouth turned downward at his brother's harsh tone, but his eyes were steely and calm.

"I'm saying," Alphonse spoke as he played a scale Edward hadn't learned yet, "that maybe you've forgotten that Winry has a lot on her mind, too. She called Mr. Garfiel yesterday. I don't think he's going to let her stay for the entire week. You know how Garfiel is – he's so easy-going, but he seemed pretty upset. Maybe it's just me, but I think you should sort this out with her before she leaves."

Edward's forehead furrowed. "Upset? Why would he be upset?" he asked belligerently. Alphonse shrugged, beginning to play an arpeggio with both hands.

"It's been a while since the Promised Day. Usually, Winry would be back in Rush Valley and working by now. Garfiel knows we're important to her, but I don't think he's seen this side of her before. Maybe he thought she was being impractical. Maybe his nerves are just frayed. Who knows?"

"She's going to yell at me," Edward mumbled, watching his brother's slim, pale fingers moving across the paler piano keys. "She really seemed annoyed. I was getting used to her being nice to me."

Alphonse laughed, and his fingers slipped off the piano. He covered the keys. "She'll still be nice to you, brother. She always is. But you shouldn't let this fester. You're both older and more mature now, after all."

"I hate it when you're always right," Edward sighed, getting up from the piano bench. "I'll see you in a bit."

Alphonse waved merrily as his brother left the room, turning back to the piano once Edward was gone. "My brother is really smart," he spoke to himself, "but sometimes, I think he's not all that good with people."

* * *

"Winry." Edward stood outside her room, hammering on her door with his auto-mail hand. "Open up! I am _not_ going to yell at you through the door!"

"You're doing that right now!" Winry called, and he was relieved to hear that she sounded less angry and more amused. "What happened, I thought you were going to find books on how to play the piano?"

Ouch. There was still some resentment in her tone. Edward winced and lowered his arm.

"I'm _not_ going to do that. I was never going to do that. That was your idea, not mine."

Winry sighed. "I know. I just got so mad... I hate it when you're being a smart-aleck."

"I know you love it," Edward retorted, and was rewarded by the sound of her brief laughter. "But seriously, Winry. Why'd you fly at me like that? You know that's how I am. I didn't mean anything by it." He folded his arms and leaned against the wall outside her room, feeling strange about talking to her with a door between them.

"I..." Her voice caught. "I don't know."

"Al told me Garfiel's not letting you stay the entire week. He must be eager to have you back – you probably get more customers than he does," he joked. Winry didn't reply, and Edward felt his eyes narrow in concern.

"Winry?" he called gently.

She inhaled deeply. "I think master was... was worried about me, and said some things he didn't mean to." Her voice was steady, but there was a dangerous quiver in it that made Edward want to hurt someone – or shake some sense into the stupid girl. "I mean, he knows I love auto-mail... I'm sure he didn't mean... it's just a week, after all..."

"Tell me what happened," Edward ordered. Winry sighed again, and he was glad to hear a lack of tears in her voice. Winry wouldn't cry over something so trivial.

"Nothing. Like I said, he just said some stuff. I'm not upset at him, I know he meant well. But I need to leave day after tomorrow."

"Less lessons, huh – does this mean I get to cut your salary?" he smirked. Winry laughed.

"What salary?" she teased back.

"Winry." His voice turned serious again. "Please open the door?"

There was a pause, and then he heard her feet moving across the room. There was a click, and the door swung inwards. Edward pushed himself off the wall and approached her, wary of seeing visible signs of distress.

Winry's face was pale, but not sad. She smiled at him, looking rueful. "Sorry for losing my temper with you. You're just such an easy target."

Edward scoffed. "If I hadn't known you since we were kids, I would have made you pay for that."

"Yeah, right." Winry grinned. "You're all bark and no bite, Edward Elric. Come on – there's still some daylight left for us!"

She walked past him, towards the staircase, and he followed – it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, to follow her into the guest room and sit down at the piano once more.

* * *

**AN: Not the best chapter. I'm guessing Garfiel was just really, really worried about his apprentice and said some things he shouldn't have. What things? Um, I have no idea. Ha-ha. Maybe I'll make an extra on their conversation.  
**

**Not much piano in this chapter, again, but there should be lots in the next chapter – theory, though, rather than practical.**

**Chapter title means **_**thoughtfully**_**.**


	8. Sognando

_Amoroso_

**AN: Sorry for taking so long to update, again! I think I'll only be able to update **_**Amoroso**_** once a week now. ^^;; I'm really very sorry!**

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** isn't mine! Not even alchemy can give me that!**

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER EIGHT: Sognando

"I just realized," Winry announced as she rifled through a stack of papers, "that I haven't even taught you how to read sheet music! It's terrible, that should have been the first thing!" She let out a triumphant sound and pulled out a sheaf of papers, grinning from ear to ear.

"What's that?" Edward inquired, sitting at the piano bench and absently playing random keys. Alphonse made a face at his brother's 'music' and covered his mouth to stifle a giggle.

"It's an old piece my mom once taught me," Winry replied, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in the paper. "It's called 'Ishbalan Air'. I'm not sure _why_ it's called that, but it's a lovely piece." She crossed the room and placed the sheets on top of the keys of the piano.

"Okay, so you remember that we have notes named from A to G, right?"

Edward grunted in agreement. Winry scowled teasingly at him as she continued. "So take a look at this here." She pointed to the beginning of the music – or, at least, Edward guessed it was the beginning of the music – and tapped a strange-looking black dot a few times. "This is a note – a quaver, to be exact," she explained. "I'll go into counts after this, okay? But the note itself is C. Remember middle C?"

Edward played the note on the piano, not deigning to answer verbally. Winry snorted out a laugh and nodded with exaggerated approval. "Good. So this is middle C. See the little stick through it? That's how you can tell it's middle C. These lines – there are five of them – they're collectively called a stave. You can write notes above and below the stave, too, but most of the notes are written here.

"I'm just going to brief you on the notes placed on each line of the stave. It's not that difficult to remember if you can remember middle C. A note can be on a line or in a space – remember that, too, okay? So this note," Winry moved a few notes ahead, "this note, on the bottom-most line of the stave – it's E. See, because D comes in the space between C and E. Get it?"

"Sort of." Edward squinted at the array of dots on the paper, feeling slightly foolish. They looked like splatters of ink to him. "So D is in the space?"

"Yes," Winry beamed. "And the note on the next line of the stave is G – because F is in the space between E and G."

"Here?" Edward pointed to a note nestled in the space between the bottom two lines of the stave. "That's F?"

"Yes!" Winry looked immensely proud of him. "Yes, that's F. So then, what do you think a note on the middle line of the stave will be?"

"Umm..." Edward closed one eye and tried to remember the sequence of notes. "A?"

"Close," Winry laughed. "A is in the space above G. B lies on the middle line of the stave, okay? Just remember, alternate notes lie on the lines."

"Okay," Edward sighed. Music, surprisingly, had quite a lot of memorizing involved. He skimmed over the notes of the piece, but what truly caught his attention was a strange symbol at the beginning of the piece.

"Hey Winry, what's that?" He pointed it out. Winry glanced over, eyes widening as she saw what he was referring to.

"Oops! Sorry, I forgot to explain that. That's the treble clef – it usually means you have to play it with your right hand."

"So then, what do I play with my left hand?"

Winry looked sheepish. "I was just about to come to that," she muttered, and Edward shot her a disbelieving look.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes!" Winry blushed slightly. "Okay, so if you notice, there's _another_ stave below this one, and it has a different symbol at the beginning. That's the _bass_ clef. It usually means you play it with the left hand, but the way of reading the notes on the bass clef is a little different.

"Basically, if you notice, the treble clef has this round dark region that rests on the line for G. That's why it's also called the G clef at times. The bass clef, on the other hand... see, it has the same dot? But the bass clef is an F clef, so that dot rests on the line that F is found on. So this is F." Winry tapped the second line from the top of the bottom stave. "Middle C in the bass clef is also drawn with just one line through it, but in this case, it's _above_ the stave instead of below, like for the treble clef. Is that okay?"

Edward stared at the jumble of notes and lines and felt the beginning of a headache forming. Winry tried to explain it all to him, but it wasn't easy for him to understand. Music wasn't like science – there wasn't a _reason_ for everything. There wasn't a reason for the bass clef to be different from the treble clef, as far as he knew – it just _was_. And that confused him.

"Yeah," he lied, blinking rapidly to clear the spots from his vision. "Yeah, that makes perfect sense. So the space between the top two lines in the bass clef would be G?"

Winry's gaze was impressed. "Exactly so. You pick up fast, Ed," she smiled, jostling his shoulder with her own. "I'm so proud of you!"

Edward smiled tentatively back as Winry turned to the music sheet. "All right, so you know how to read notes. That means we're almost set for your final class tomorrow. There's just one more thing I need to explain, and that's time."

"Time?" Edward was baffled. "What time?"

Winry chuckled. "Time in a musical piece, Ed. Every piece has its own time signature. It kind of tells you how fast or slow to play it, stuff like that. And these little dots? They mean different things. They're not all held for the same amount of time."

Really, Edward reflected, he liked _playing_ the piano more than learning about it. Listening to Winry lecture him about notes wasn't nearly as interesting as actually playing those notes. Why did she have to teach him this, again?

In order to play a piece, he remembered with a start. That was going to be his last lesson. He was going to learn how to play a piece tomorrow.

"... Ed? Ed, are you listening to me?" Edward blinked and wasn't able to stop a surly expression from crossing his face. Winry crossed her arms and glared at him, although the icy stare was noticeably less intimidating because her messy bun opened and covered her face with hair. She let out an angry yelp and blew irritably at the hair obscuring her face, blue eyes still glinting challengingly at him. Edward rolled his eyes, choked out a laugh and carelessly brushed the hair off her face.

"No, I wasn't," he replied in a bored tone, "but I'm listening now, so please lecture away, oh great teacher." Winry's mouth twitched at his words.

"I forget – are you usually so sarcastic, Edward?" she retorted, loosening her arms and letting her hands fall into her lap once more. Edward laughed, cheered by her obvious effort to hide her smile.

"Nope, but today's a special day, it would seem."

Winry finally gave in and laughed. "You're weirdly chipper right now, Ed, even if you are on the verge of dozing off when I'm educating you about quavers and crotchets. What's up?"

"Nothing," Edward shrugged. "Just figured that you have to go back day after, so I wouldn't make too much of a fuss during these two days. Make it easier on you and all."

"Is Edward Elric being... considerate?" Winry feigned shock. "I didn't think you had it in you, Ed."

Alphonse had had enough. "Okay, can you guys stop flirting and get on with the lesson? I want to hear about counts!"

Instead of spluttering indignantly, Winry laughed and shrugged. Edward watched her carefully for any signs of embarrassment, but when she showed none, he decided that it would be extremely awkward if he was the only one to turn red, so he willed his blood cells to remain calm.

"Okay, so this note over here – see, the white oval with no tail? That's called a semi-breve. It's held for four counts. This note, the white oval with a tail, is called a minim. It's held for _two_ counts, half of a semi-breve. The main note used in a crotchet, which is this black note with a tail. It's held for a single count. Usually, counts are like this – _one_ and _two_ and _three_ and _four_ and." She clapped her hands together when she spoke each number. Edward nodded, the purpose of time becoming slightly clearer.

"If there's a semi-breve, then where's the breve? It would be double the semi-breve, right?"

Winry laughed. "That would be held for eight counts, and mom never showed me any music that requires such a long note!" She skimmed over the page with her fingertips, letting them come to rest on a note that looked very much like a crotchet, except with an extra curled tail on top of the stem protruding from the oval body. "This is a quaver. It's held for half a count. So when you count _one_ and _two_ and so on, each number as well as the 'and' separating two numbers becomes a quaver. So if this is a crotchet," Winry played A and counted 'one and' out loud, "this would be a quaver." She played the same note, but two of them in succession, one each on 'one' and 'and'. "Get it?"

"Yeah," Edward replied, and strangely enough, he _did_ understand it – well, some of it. Winry's explanations were basic and straight to the point, so that helped a bit. But she spoke in convoluted sentences that confused him. Nevertheless, at least it made _some_ sense.

"Great," Winry smiled, looking at him affectionately. Alphonse hopped off the bed and came over to the piano, eager to try out the piece Winry had laid out. The girl got to her feet to allow Alphonse onto the piano bench, smiling fondly at him. Edward looked at her, really looked at her, and he saw something that surprised him. Although Winry's eyes were full of love and pride, there was a strange distance to them, too. She looked thoughtful, preoccupied, and Edward thought he could sense a storm building up behind her pretty blue eyes.

* * *

**AN: The next chapter will be quite an important one. Hopefully, I'll have it up in a week, or even before that! I've already started it, and it was the first chapter I came up with after thinking of this idea.**

**Hope you liked the chapter! Theory explanations, nothing more, unfortunately. x) Therefore, more dialogue than anything else.  
**

**Chapter title means **_**dreamily**_**.**


	9. Affanoso

_Amoroso_

**AN: Okay, so I got this up a little early! Yay me! Enjoy. (:**

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** is not mine.**

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER NINE: Affanoso

"So, what's next?" Edward asked, laughing softly as Alphonse plonked out a lively melody. "What else have you got ready for me, teacher?"

Winry smiled at the teasing tone in his voice and shook her head. "There really isn't more that I can teach you," she replied, a little sadly. "I think we're done for today. Tomorrow, we'll start on your piece, okay?" She picked up the stack of sheets on the bed and placed them on his head. Edward spluttered as his hands shot up, grabbing the papers before they could tumble off. Winry giggled and sat down on the bed, crossing her legs.

"Just look through those, please? Let me know which one you want to learn." Edward nodded and took the papers off his head, leafing through the sheets. Winry grinned, amused at the fact that he'd already started the task at hand.

"Not now, silly! Don't tell me now. Tell me tomorrow," she advised. Edward nodded absently, his eyes still scanning the music in front of him. He wasn't sure what to pick – did he pick by name, or difficulty, or what? How was he supposed to choose? He didn't even know what would sound good, because he didn't know how to string all of his knowledge together quite yet. He could try to pick out the melody on the piano, he supposed, but he didn't want to do that. He wanted Winry to teach it to him, beginning to end – even if it would take the entire next day.

Winry had initiated him into this world of music, and it was only right that she finished the job she'd started, after all. He wouldn't deny her that.

"Ahh," Winry sighed, falling backwards on the bed, "I'm sort of tired. Hey, Ed, there's nothing wrong with your auto-mail, is there? If there isn't, I'll head upstairs to take a nap."

Edward shook his head, raising his gaze from the music sheets in his hands. "Nope, it's fine," he assured her, noting with surprise that there were dark shadows under her eyes. Had she really gone to sleep the previous night when she said she had? "Get some rest," he added gruffly, getting up from the piano bench to let Alphonse occupy the whole thing. "You look like hell."

Winry made a sleepy sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. "You say the sweetest things," she deadpanned, sitting up and stretching her arms upwards. "Yeah, okay, I'm going. Wake me up by five or so, okay?"

Edward glanced at the wall clock. "It's noon. Are you going to miss lunch?"

Winry waved her hand in the air. "I'll have an extra-big dinner, I promise." She smiled at him teasingly. "Okay, big brother? Good enough for you?"

Edward chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Get going, get upstairs before you collapse and Al and I have to drag you," he replied. Winry yawned and hopped off the bed, wandering towards the doorway and from there, to the staircase. Edward followed her for part of the way in order to make sure that she made it to her bedroom.

"Honestly," he muttered with affectionate exasperation, "she works herself too hard."

"Mmm," Alphonse agreed. "It looks like she didn't sleep last night."

Edward frowned – they'd gotten back from the party quite late, and everyone had headed upstairs almost immediately. He'd heard Winry go into her own room, and he'd also heard her bed creak with what he had presumed to be her weight... he'd thought she was asleep, and had only gone to sleep himself after that. Had he been wrong? Had she gotten up again?

"She's been stressing about something," he muttered, remembering the sight of her hunched over her work table, shoulders shaking, with painful clarity. "But she can't miss lunch. I guess I'll take something up for her when granny makes it."

Alphonse glanced at his brother, amusement and surprise written on his face. "That's pretty startling, coming from you, big brother," he commented. Edward flushed and crossed his arms, looking embarrassed.

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

Alphonse laughed. "Nothing, nothing. I can take it up, if you'd prefer."

"Eh..." Edward wasn't sure why he wanted to take the food for Winry himself, but he did. "That's okay. I'll do it."

Alphonse smiled secretly to himself. His big brother was learning – slowly, but surely, he was learning.

* * *

"Winry?" Edward knocked on her door, balancing a tray on one hand. "I'm coming in, okay?"

He'd ended up bringing her lunch himself after all, and he felt foolish, for some reason. He'd never really been this doting with anyone. But the idea of Winry missing a meal concerned him, even if he didn't know why, so he'd brought it for her.

There was no reply, and so Edward opened the door with one hand, glad it wasn't locked. He left it ajar as he instinctively looked to his right, at her bed.

She was asleep, her long hair spread out across the pillow and shining like dull gold. Edward felt something peculiar in his throat and swallowed a few times, moving hesitantly to her side. She looked peaceful and untroubled, and he felt loath to wake her. Maybe he would just leave the food on her bedside table. She truly looked like she needed the sleep.

He patted her awkwardly on the head and placed the tray on the table, turning around to leave the room. He almost expected her to wake up as he left, but she stayed asleep, even though her eyeballs moved restlessly beneath her lids. Edward shut the door behind him as gently as possible, his throat tight.

* * *

"Ed! Hey, Ed!"

Edward looked up from his perusal of the stack of sheet music, smiling wryly at the sight of Winry with mussed hair and a sleepy smile. "Hey there," he greeted her, hoping she'd eaten the food. He got his answer as Winry plopped down in the seat next to him and opened her mouth.

"Thanks for the lunch," she spoke, looking much more refreshed and cheerful. "I didn't realize quite how hungry I was! I finished it pretty quickly." She laughed and looked down at her lap. Edward shrugged and tried to be nonchalant about it.

"'S okay. Just thought you would be hungry," he muttered. "But wait – how did you know it was me?"

"I didn't," Winry admitted, looking a little smug. "I guessed. But as sweet as Al is, I figured something like this was more of your style. Al would've left me a note with the tray."

Edward scowled at the indirect jibe to his character. "_Fine_. I'll leave you a note next time," he retorted, clearly annoyed. Winry's eyebrows rose in amusement.

"There's going to be a next time?"

"Um, maybe." Edward hated being uncomfortable and at a loss for words. He also hated how often _Winry_ was the one who made him uncomfortable and at a loss for words. "Who knows, right?"

"Yeah, who knows," Winry echoed. "Find anything you like?" She nodded towards the papers in Edward's hands. He followed her gaze and shrugged, placing the stack on the table.

"I don't know... I don't know how to choose anything," he replied honestly. "How am I supposed to pick? I don't know what any of them sound like, don't know which one is harder or easier..."

Winry stared at him, apparently startled by the frankness of his confession. "Don't worry about what's hard or easy," she said after a moment, averting her eyes. "No matter how long it takes, I'll teach it to you. Just choose one – see which one's name sounds the best, I guess?" She shrugged and laughed.

Edward felt a little nettled by her casual reply. He'd expected something a little more helpful, something that would aid him in choosing the piece. It was going to be the first piece he played, after all! He wanted it to be special.

When did I become so sentimental? he wondered.

"Okay. I'll let you know tomorrow, in any case. That's what you said, right?"

Winry smiled. "Yes, that's what I said. Anyway, I'm going to go change. Thanks again for the food."

"No problem," Edward grunted, and watched her surreptitiously as she got up and walked away, her wild, tangled hair swinging.

* * *

It was late at night, and Edward was about to go to sleep. The four of them had had dinner a few hours ago, and after that, each one had gone off to finish personal business – Alphonse had gone to practice the piano, Edward had gone to study a few alchemical texts, Winry had gone to work on a new model of auto-mail and Pinako had gone to visit a friend, taking the elderly Den with her.

Pinako had returned after a few hours, and Edward had talked to her for a while, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Winry was within hearing distance. When Pinako and Alphonse had both announced that they were going to bed, Edward had decided to follow suit – but not before checking in on Winry.

Pinako had assured him that she'd checked up on Winry, and that the girl had been working hard. Edward trusted the old woman's words, but something made him want to make sure with his own two eyes. He had to see that Winry was all right.

He padded down the hallway and stopped outside Winry's workshop, his ears straining to pick up a sound, any sound. He heard nothing. Frowning, Edward pushed the door open gently, wincing as it let out a soft creak.

Winry was slumped over her work table, her body shaking. Alarm bells went off in Edward's head, and he'd crossed the room before he knew it. He reached out to touch her, unsure of how his comfort would be received, but Winry hiccuped and looked up before he could. Her eyes widened and she moved away from him, the legs of her stool screeching against the floor. Edward stood there with his hand outstretched, feeling unbearably foolish.

"Winry, I... I'm sorry, I just wanted to check that you were all right..."

"I'm _fine_," Winry interrupted, trying to discreetly wipe at her face. "You should probably go to bed." She offered him a smile, and it made Edward's chest hurt to see how hard she was trying. "I mean, it's pretty late, right?"

"Maybe you should go to bed, too," he replied gently, worried about how to handle her. "Like you said, it's late."

"I'm fine. I had a nap, remember?"

Edward shook his head and approached her slowly, gratified to see that she didn't move away again. "You still look tired."

"I'm busy," Winry added, folding her arms and trying to look annoyed. "And you're interrupting me. We can talk tomorrow, okay? But just let me work right now."

There was a slightly desperate edge to her voice, and Edward paused, startled. "O-okay," he conceded, feeling ashamed of interrupting her. "I'll go. Just... get some sleep, okay?"

Winry nodded mutely. Edward turned and was about to leave when his eyes fell on her work table. In a flash, Winry was up and standing in front of him, blocking his view of the papers scattered across the table.

"Don't look at my stuff!" she cried, her voice shaking. "Just... just go away, Ed!"

Edward set his jaw and shook his head, trying to push her aside. "Winry, what are you doing? Those didn't look like blueprints to me. What are you up to?"

"It's none of your business!" Her voice cracked on the last word, and she fought him, pushing him away from the table. "Just _go away_, Ed!"

"Winry!" Edward grabbed her wrists and shook her. "Shut up! What the hell are you doing to yourself?"

"Nothing!" She was almost in tears. "I'm fine, I'm fine, okay? I'm not doing anything, but it's _my_ business, and I don't want to show it to you!"

Defeated, Edward released her wrists and dropped his arms. "I'm worried about you," he admitted in a low voice, hating the desperation that crept into his tone. "You don't look like you're sleeping, you're distant at times... I just want to know what's going on, Winry. That's all."

Winry released a shuddering sigh and pulled her stool closer with one leg. "I..." she mumbled, averting her eyes. "I don't..."

"Winry." Edward fought to be gentle, fought to contain his anxiety for her. "Please."

"It's stupid..." She had tears in her eyes, real tears, and it made Edward want to hurt someone very, very badly. "You'll think I'm childish, or mad."

"Winry." Edward tried to catch her gaze. "I won't think that, I promise. I won't even mention it ever again, if that's what you want."

Winry sat down on the stool with a sigh, resting her face in her hands. "I... I..." She seemed incapable of forming a coherent sentence. "I just..."

"Hey," Edward spoke, alarmed at her frailty, "hey, keep it together, Winry!"

"Shut up!" Her voice was muffled with tears, but Edward was almost glad to detect the note of irritation in her tone. "It's... it's not easy to explain... I don't even know if I want to..."

"Of course you want to." Edward purposefully kept up a light tone. "Do you mind if I see what's on your table?"

Winry's hands shot out. She grasped a few sheets of paper and pulled them towards her, pressing them protectively against her chest.

"I..."

"Shh." Edward felt as if he was handling a small child as he crouched in front of her and gently tugged at her fingers. "It's okay, Winry. You can trust me."

"I know that." Her voice was very small.

"Then just let me see it," Edward coaxed. Winry's grip on the papers loosened, until Edward was able to pry the papers away from her. He turned them over apprehensively, staring at the scribbles that met his eyes.

_Musical notes_. She'd drawn notes everywhere, staves repeated over and over again across the paper, different melodies invented on every square inch of the paper. She'd written a set of lyrics in one corner, crossed them out and then written them again, and then crossed those out as well. There were tear stains on the paper, and furious black lines created by pencil. Edward could barely take it all in.

Winry's fingers were on his, and she took the papers away. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she said quietly, placing them face-down in her lap. "No, actually. I'd _hoped_ you would, but it seems I was wrong." She ran her fingers over the creased paper, her shoulders shaking once more. "It's so stupid of me... so stupid... how could I...?"

"Winry..." Edward reached out to touch her face, but he withdrew his hand at the last moment. "What...?"

Then it struck him – he recognized some of those words she'd written. A soft female voice came unbidden to his mind, singing a lilting lullaby.

"That's... that's auntie Sara's lullaby, isn't it?"

Winry let out a muffled gasp and started to cry again. Panicking, Edward reached out and brushed her hair away from her forehead, touching her face with his fingertips over and over again.

"Winry? Winry, I'm sorry, I didn't... please stop crying, dammit..."

"I-I..." Her body shook harder, and Edward stared at her helplessly. He didn't know how to deal with crying individuals, much less crying girls.

"Hey," he tried to calm her down, "hey, it's okay... it's okay..." He felt immensely uncomfortable, but he stood up and awkwardly hugged her to him. Winry's tears stained his shirt, and her arms came up to wrap around his waist as she continued to sob. Edward patted her head and stroked her hair, slowly easing into the role of a comforter.

"It's okay," he repeated. "It's okay."

"It's _not_ okay." Winry's voice was muffled, and she pulled away. He was glad to see that her shoulders were straight and that she had apparently run out of tears. She looked so tired, he realized with a pang, so tired and worn-out, like a shriveled husk of a person. Why hadn't he noticed earlier? Why hadn't he stopped her earlier?

"I... how could I forget my own mother's lullaby?" Her voice quivered as she spoke, but she didn't start crying again. "I can't remember it, Ed... the words, or the melody... I can't even remember what her voice sounded like when she sang it..." She scrubbed at her face, her entire body slumping forward. "I've lost her."

Full of pain for her, Edward gently drew her to him once more. "You haven't lost her," he told her softly, "any more than you've actually forgotten her song. It's in there somewhere – I know it is. You'll find it."

"I've been trying for so long... but I can't, I can't..."

"Hey now, that might be because you're pushing yourself too hard," Edward protested. "When was the last time you had a full night of sleep?"

Winry didn't respond. Edward sighed, mentally cursing himself for not figuring this out sooner. What kind of a friend was he?

"You can't force this out," he added in a kinder tone. "You have to let it come out naturally. You've been so worked up about remembering the lullaby that you haven't let yourself relax at all. That's not the way to do it, and you _know_ that."

Winry sniffled. Edward felt a little ridiculous, giving her a pep talk about something like a single song, but he could tell it was important to Winry. He couldn't deny the fact that he kept trying to remember songs his own mother had sung, too – he wanted to keep a memory of her with him forever. He'd noted down some of the things she'd sung, some of the things she'd said and done that had made her uniquely her, and he'd stored it away, just so that the memories didn't overwhelm him too often – because in the end, life was for the living.

"Are you going to be okay now?" he questioned, and Winry looked up. Her eyes seemed sad, but they seemed a little brighter, too. The sight of her small smile made a strange warmth blossom in his chest.

"I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?" Edward grinned at her wry tone, but his smile faded as she looked at him seriously, her cheeks still a little damp. "But... well, thanks, Ed."

* * *

**AN: Longest chapter! I told you this would be the most important chapter – I realize that the reason for Winry's tears might seem ridiculous, but I don't think so. I think the fact that Edward reached out to her and comforted her signifies... well, actually, I can't tell you that, now can I? ;) I tried to keep Edward in character, because I truly believe that he's a lot softer and gentler with Winry, even if he tries to hide it at times.**

**Chapter title, understandably, means **_**anguished**_**. There should be about two more chapters left after this.**


	10. Tenerezza

_Amoroso_

**AN: The penultimate chapter! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** isn't mine. Something mentioned later, though, _is_ mine. You'll guess when you see it.  
**

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER TEN: Tenerezza

When Winry awoke, she was first conscious of a comforting warmth enveloping her shoulders and back. Then she realized that her face was pressed against the edge of a toolbox – it hurt, she noted with dim surprise. She lifted her head off the table and patted her cheek, wincing as the raw, sensitive skin reacted. Why was I sleeping on top of a toolbox? she wondered distantly. This isn't my bedroom.

She sat up straight and felt the warmth slip from her shoulders. Turning, she noticed a quilt on the floor. Was that on me? I can't remember…

_Oh_! Winry took in her surroundings, her cheeks flushing slightly. She was in her workshop – she'd fallen asleep at her table, and someone must have put the quilt on her so that she wouldn't be cold. A faint smile played on her face as memories of the previous night trickled into her brain.

After her confrontation of sorts with Edward, he'd insisted that she go back to bed. She'd been touched, but she told him that she wanted to work on the lullaby for a little longer. She'd be fine, she had argued, she wouldn't stress herself out again. She knew better.

Edward had been peeved, but he'd eventually given up and left her, reminding her gruffly not to stay up all night. The fact that he'd left her would have annoyed any other woman, but Winry was truly grateful, because it meant that he trusted her. In his own way, he had tried to tell her that he knew she wouldn't work herself too hard again. He believed in her.

I must have fallen asleep after that, Winry realized. And he must have come back to put the quilt on me. How long was he awake, I wonder?

She crept out of the workroom and up the stairs, carefully avoiding the one stair that creaked. Padding down the corridor, she peered into Edward and Alphonse's room, and then smiled at the sight she saw.

Alphonse always slept quite normally – either on his back or on his side, sometimes stretched out and sometimes curled in a ball. But Edward… he never slept the same way two nights in a row. Sometimes his arms were flung out in different directions, sometimes he'd reverse his orientation on the bed, and sometimes he'd even sleep belly-down.

Last night, however, had obviously taken a lot out of him. He was on his side, with one hand under his pillow and the other hanging off the bed. He was snoring softly, and as she watched, he muttered and shifted restlessly.

Winry's heart went out to him. Even if she hadn't been so deeply in love with him, she would have fallen for him right then – because the trusting openness in his face made him so beautiful, and made her heart swell with tenderness for him.

She closed the door and returned to her own room.

* * *

Edward's eyes refused to open. His body was awake, he was aware of his surroundings, but his eyes just did not want to open. He grumbled unintelligibly and sat up slowly, shaking his head. Eventually, his reluctant eyes opened.

He sighed deeply. Edward was used to going without much sleep, but over the past few weeks, he'd gotten accustomed to getting at least nine or ten hours of sleep. Last night had been exhausting, but not physically. Winry had had to open up to him, but he'd had to open himself up to her, too, in order to comfort her. It wasn't easy, he realized, being strong for another person. He admired the girl even more now that he knew what it was like.

"Good morning, brother." Alphonse was already dressed and perched on the edge of his mattress. "You're up a bit late today, aren't you?" He grinned, and Edward drank in the sight greedily – Alphonse's hair, glinting in the sunlight, the rosy flush in his cheeks, and the playful spark in his eyes. It was as if Alphonse had reverted back to a normal teenager once his body had been returned. Almost, but not quite – Edward knew that there was still a mature thoughtfulness to the boy that no other teenager possessed. Alphonse had had to deal with hell throughout the years, just like he had – the only difference was, Alphonse had handled everything in a better, more natural way.

"Yeah," Edward finally yawned in reply. "Had a late night." Alphonse's eyebrows rose in interest, and Edward scowled, waving one hand in the air. "None of your business," he added gruffly. Alphonse didn't look too unhappy at his brother's unwillingness to share the information. On the contrary, he just shrugged and smiled.

"Okay, okay. I think granny saved some breakfast for you. Are you hungry?"

As if on cue, Edward's stomach rumbled alarmingly. Edward grinned and scratched the back of his head.

"I think that's a yes."

Alphonse laughed and slid off the bed. "C'mon, then. Granny's out, and Winry's still asleep. I didn't think she'd sleep even later than you!"

Edward laughed uncomfortably, his mind unwillingly flashing to Winry's tear stained face of the previous night. It was good that she was sleeping, he decided. She definitely needed the rest.

Alphonse sat at the table and watched his brother as Edward located the food and heated it up over the fire, studiously ignoring the innocent-looking milk carton. Alphonse laughed – in some ways, his brother would never truly grow up. But as he watched Edward moving around the kitchen with a natural grace, he thought of something and absently voiced it out loud.

"You know, you could be a great family man one day, big brother."

Edward froze, and then yelped as his flesh hand came in contact with the lit flame. Swearing under his breath, he quickly extinguished it and grabbed his plate, marching over to the table.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, looking fierce. Alphonse felt startled – he'd meant his observation as a compliment!

"I mean… I don't know. You've become oddly domestic since we came back to Resembool. It's not a bad thing, it's just… new."

Edward grumbled and swore and grumbled some more, but Alphonse could detect a small bit of… satisfaction? Happiness? in his brother's eyes.

"Brother, you forgot your milk."

"To hell with milk!"

* * *

"Ed!"

Winry was dressed and ready. She'd gotten up past breakfast time and had jumped straight into lunch, eating twice as much as usual to make up for the lack of her morning meal. Edward had loudly muttered something about gluttony being a sin, and she'd shot him a dark look that had, surprisingly, managed to get him to shut up. Alphonse had sniggered into his plate, and Pinako had looked enormously amused.

"What? I _said_ I was sorry about that glutton comment," Edward complained, knowing that that wasn't what Winry had come to talk to him about. Sure enough, Winry folded her arms and glared at him.

"I don't care about that, stupid! When do you plan on learning your piece?"

"Huh?" Edward blinked. "Oh. _Oh_." He'd almost forgotten, he realized with a start. Everything had been so crazy since the previous night that he hadn't gotten a chance to look through the pieces Winry had given him.

"Okay, okay. Give me a minute," he harrumphed, looking around and catching sight of the stack of papers on the dining table. "I still need to decide."

"_Ed_," Winry sighed in exasperation. Edward looked up at her and frowned.

"What? It's not exactly that easy! How did _you_ choose what piece you learned first, huh?"

"I didn't. Mom did. And it's not that hard, either, Ed. Just _choose_ one!" Winry waved her hand impatiently. "I'm going to the guest bedroom."

Edward pretended to shuffle through the papers to keep his eyes away from hers. After the previous night, he expected Winry to be more gentle and fragile. Instead, she was the same as ever – almost worse, since she no longer treated him as kindly as she had since Al and he had returned. She treated him like she had before their lives had been turned upside down – like he was still that little Ed, searching for a Stone that he would never create. He felt… well, he felt a little put-off, to be honest. He'd thought the encounter had been something that would strengthen their relationship – instead, it had just brought them back to square one.

Edward sighed and picked up the papers, getting up and moving towards the guest bedroom. He'd just choose the first one off the top of the pile. Winry was right – it wasn't that hard.

He entered the room and sat down on the piano bench, acutely aware of Winry's gaze on him. When he turned to look at her, the expression in her eyes was puzzling – half anticipation and half irritation. What did she have to be irritated about? Edward fumed.

"Did you choose?" Winry's voice was expectant. Edward heard Alphonse's light footsteps as his younger brother passed the bedroom, but did not enter.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," he replied sullenly. Winry made a clicking noise with her tongue.

"Tell me!" she pressed. Edward shifted and looked down at the pages in his hands.

"I… I want to learn…"

_Two Waltzes_, the page in front of him read. Edward stared at it for a few seconds, his fingers tightening around the sheet.

But he _didn't_ want to learn this piece. He wanted to learn a piece that was special, that meant something to him and to Winry.

"I want to learn auntie Sara's lullaby, Winry."

Winry froze. Edward could feel her shocked gaze, and immediately regretted being so bold.

"Ed…" Winry looked like she was struggling for words. "Ed, please… you know I… I haven't finished it… I don't know it…"

"Yes, you do," Edward interrupted, firmly but politely. "You do." And he began to hum under his breath.

Winry's lovely blue eyes widened fractionally as Edward struggled through a few notes, trying to remember the rise and fall of Sara Rockbell's voice when she had sung the lullaby to three very sleepy children.

"Hmm hmm hmm… far away from here…"

Winry's hands crept up her face until they were covering her mouth. Tears began to shine in her eyes, and Edward stopped, worrying that he'd taken it too far – until he heard Winry's voice singing the next line.

"Across the raging sea," she whispered, and the tears spilled over. "Oh, Ed…"

"I'm sorry." Edward immediately felt awkward. "I didn't… I just thought…"

Hesitantly, almost dreamily, one of Winry's hands fell away from her face and landed on the keys of the piano. She played a single chord, three notes together, and then the other hand joined the first, and she was picking out a melody on the keys – soft and irresistibly beautiful.

"I…" She played an off note and winced, dropping her hands into her lap. "I…" She seemed so lost, so childlike, that Edward leaned forward and hugged her impulsively.

"You knew it after all, didn't you, Winry?"

She nodded slowly, seemingly unaware of the tears still dripping down her face. "I… oh, Ed… _thank you_."

Although it was the second time she'd said it in the last twenty-four hours, Edward's face still warmed up. "You're welcome," he replied gruffly. Winry wrapped her arms around him and held him close for a few seconds, and strangely enough, Edward didn't feel awkward or self-conscious at all.

After a while, Winry slipped away from him. "Now, get out."

Edward's face froze in an expression of total bewilderment. Winry laughed at the look on his face and shook her head.

"I need to finish it before I can teach it to you. Now, out!" She shooed him out of the guest bedroom and shut the door. Edward was left staring at a blank expanse of honey-colored wood and wondered if Winry had ever learnt the meaning of the word 'gratitude'.

* * *

"Ed?" Winry opened the door and peeped out. "Ed, it's done! You can come in now!"

"Eh?" Edward walked over from the kitchen. "Is it, now?" He sounded slightly sour, Winry noted, and felt guilty. She couldn't help it – she'd really appreciated Edward's encouragement and his help, but she had needed to complete the song _alone_.

"Mhm," she replied, stepping aside to let him in. "Still want to learn it?"

"Of course," Edward replied, a little stung by the implications in her question. "But geez, that was fast."

"Yeah… it just all sort of came back to me," Winry admitted, her face flushed red. "Sorry about kicking you out, by the way. But I needed to do this by myself."

"Yeah, okay," Edward shrugged. It made sense. Her mother's lullaby had been something she'd slaved over for quite some time – it made sense that she'd wanted to keep it private for a while.

Still didn't help ease the sting of rejection, though.

Winry picked up a single sheet and offered it to Edward. He took it and let his eyes skim over the notes, picking out familiar patterns in the music. In his head, he could hear auntie Sara, singing tenderly.

"You got it," he said softly, still looking down at the music. "You really got it, Winry."

"Well, you helped. A lot." Winry sounded slightly embarrassed, and Edward wondered at that. Winry was always so proud of her auto-mail, and she was never coy or shy when people complimented her on it. This lullaby, while it was intensely personal, should not have provoked such a response in her…

Or maybe, Edward realized, there was something about music that made it even more personal than any tangible object. Maybe it was the fact that different people played the same notes in different ways. Whatever it was, the fact that Winry had finally recreated her mother's lullaby had certainly made her happier than any auto-mail could.

"Congrats." Edward was alarmed to find out that his voice was unnaturally husky. "So, um, shall we play it?"

"Come on." Winry gestured him over to the piano. Edward took a seat, and for once, Winry did not sit beside him. She stood behind him, leaning over slightly so that her chin was almost on his shoulder.

"Okay. Just play the right hand first. I didn't add any dynamics into this piece – like soft, loud, or anything – because it's supposed to be consistently soft. Play it smoothly, okay? Don't detach the notes. That's what those arches over long sections of the piece mean – it's a slur, which means you play the notes together smoothly. When a slur ends, you're supposed to lift your hand, and I think you should still do that, but make it as inconspicuous as possible –"

"Winry!" Edward interrupted her rambling. "Relax. Take a breath."

Winry laughed, looking sheepish. "Sorry, sorry. Okay, go ahead. I'll correct you if needed."

Edward nodded and began to pick out the melody with his right hand. Winry put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly. He continued to the end of the page and then started over, this time with the other hand.

Winry pointed out timing mistakes to him, and occasionally reminded him that it was A that came after G, not C. Edward played slowly, unused to jumping from note to note so swiftly, but he could hear the music even when he played hand separately.

The sky was beginning to darken when Winry finally decided he was ready to put his hands together. Edward frowned at her and muttered something about needing everything to be perfect, but Winry just smacked him on the shoulder and told him to shut up and play.

Edward complied, albeit with more mutinous muttering. As before, he played slowly, trying to divide his attention between the left and right hand. He played out the melody with his right hand while the left added harmonizing chords. Winry was silent behind him as he played.

"That's B, not A," she interrupted him near the end. Edward looked down at his fingers and sure enough, his fourth finger was on B instead of A.

"You did well. Why don't you start from the beginning?" Winry suggested. Edward sighed and returned to the top of the page, a little annoyed with how much he would have to practice the piece before Winry was satisfied.

He began again. The beginning was a short introduction before the actual lullaby started. This time, Edward hummed along with the introduction and sang softly when the lullaby began.

_Far away from here,__  
Over the raging sea,__  
Battles rage, but do not fear  
For you are safe here with me._

He wasn't too surprised when Winry joined him for the next verse, her voice sounding uncannily like her mother's.

_Far away from here,  
Over the quiet sea,  
Someone wishes you were near  
For there's a wonderful sight to see._

Her voice rose and fell, pitched a little higher than his own, and he marveled at the sound they made together. It was like two notes being played at the same time to form a chord – both distinct sounds, but they blended together beautifully.

Winry moved to sit next to him, and Edward stared at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked beautiful, so serene and peaceful as she sang. His fingers moved over the keys, slow but sure.

_Far away from here,  
Over the shining sea,  
There's a voice, so very dear  
Calling "Some things are meant to be"._

"Some things are meant to be," Winry echoed, watching Edward's fingers as he played the last, lingering notes. He watched her as well, something wistful and sad throbbing in his chest.

Were _they_ meant to be?

* * *

**AN: I need to tell you – I am **_**not**_** a poet. I'm pretty bad at poetry, actually, so writing Sara Rockbell's lullaby was difficult. Still, I spent a lot of time over it, and although I'm still piecing together the music(I'm that obsessed with this story… pathetic…), the words are very dear to me. So please, no criticism on that.**

**The next chapter will be the last. Then, there'll probably be a short epilogue. Emphasis on **_**short**_**, unfortunately!**

**Chapter title means **_**tenderness**_**.**


	11. Sempre

_Amoroso_

**AN: Don't kill me! I suddenly lost inspiration for this piece, I have no idea why. I had EVERYTHING planned out, but the urge to write it just died within me… hopefully, it's back in full force now!**

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** is not, in any way, my property.**

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Sempre

"Winry… hey, Winry, you almost done in there?" Edward tapped the door to her bedroom with his metal knuckles, laughing softly to himself as he heard her swear and throw something at a wall. Winry's voice, when she replied, was an octave higher than usual.

"Yeah! Just… don't come in!"

Edward went in anyway, wanting to see the familiar look of exasperation on her face. Sure enough, Winry's eyes narrowed at the sight of him, and she looked thoroughly capable of seizing the nearest heavy object and lobbing it at him.

"You never listen, do you?" she groaned, turning her attention back to the task at hand. Her trunk sat on her bed, looking innocent enough in its cover of pseudo-leather – but Edward noticed that the two lips of the trunk weren't quite meeting. Winry pressed the upper lip down firmly, but although it came dangerously close to the bottom one, there wasn't enough time for her to lock it.

Edward made his way over to her bed, clambered on top and promptly sat down on the trunk. Winry squeaked in utter disbelief as Edward grinned at her cheekily.

"You should be able to close it now," he spoke, making sure that neither of his legs was blocking the latch of the trunk. Looking as if she was caught between amusement and anger, Winry hurriedly locked the trunk closed, before it could spring open once more. She heaved an enormous sigh of relief and sat down on the bed, right next to Edward and the trunk.

"Thanks," she spoke, yawning. "I couldn't take anything else out of it, and it was driving me mad! Granny's old trunks don't have a very reliable locking system, either, so I couldn't do it too quickly or it would open again." She offered him a smile, and Edward knew he was forgiven.

He looked around the room, intensely surprised at how small it appeared. When they had been little, it had been one of the biggest rooms he'd ever known – Winry, Al and he were constantly in and out of the room, playing raid on the castle or pirates. They'd often used Winry's bed – perfectly situated next to a wall and a window – as their ship, and had piled up pillows beside it when defending the fort. It made him sad to see how small the room really was.

It was neat and clean, as always. Winry was particular about the state of her surroundings, and while she didn't mind her workshop being a little messy, she'd always said she didn't lug herself up the stairs in order to throw herself down on a messy, cluttered bed.

"…you came up to tell me?" Winry looked at him expectantly, and Edward blinked.

"Uh… Granny says we'll leave in a couple of hours, since we still need to get your ticket and all. She's downstairs, entertaining someone right now – I think it's that old Mrs. Figget, although I can't be completely sure."

Winry tilted her head to one side and listened intently to the sound of laughter that drifted up the stairs. "Yup, it's her, all right. Always sounds like a braying donkey when she laughs."

Edward stared at the girl, the corners of his mouth twitching. Winry caught his expression and grinned widely.

"What? It's true!"

He chortled and slid off the bed, his feet hitting the wooden floor solidly. "That's not the only reason, though." He showed her his right hand, the fingers bent slightly awkwardly. "I was practicing downstairs, and the fingers suddenly slipped. I tried again, but the pressure was off, and the movements were sort of jerky."

Winry took his hand in her own and turned it over, examining the palm. She made a small 'tsk' noise from the back of her throat, and for once, Edward allowed himself to gaze at her unabashedly.

"Mmm, I see what you mean," she muttered, bending the fingers experimentally. "This is probably a result of all the detail work you've been doing while playing, Ed – it's my fault, I guess. I should've made sure your fingers were up to the task. Silly of me, not to have thought of that…"

"Well, I wasn't exactly playing the piano while searching for the Stone," Edward pointed out, feeling that her criticism of herself was unfair. "I wasn't using my fingers for such detailed, delicate stuff. It's fine. It can be fixed, right?"

"Of course!" Winry smiled at him. "Let me take you down to the workshop and fix that up." She got up from the bed and, still holding his arm by the wrist, led him downstairs. She made sure to pass the living room quietly, making a face at Edward as Mrs. Figget said something about the drapes. Edward suppressed the laughter that bubbled in his chest with great difficulty.

"Sit down," Winry gestured as they entered the workshop, heading towards the table and sifting through the tools there. "I might have to remake the fingers, but it won't take very long, I promise."

"No problem." Edward watched her move around the room, every motion sure and unhurried. She was at home in the workshop, far more so than in her own bedroom. He felt a pang at that – before hiding out in Resembool prior to the Promised Day, Winry hadn't slept in her own bedroom in a long time. Moving out of home was a natural part of life, he supposed, but it didn't stop him from feeling sad.

Winry swiftly disassembled his fingers as well as his thumbs and set to work building them again, using scraps of metal that she mysteriously conjured out of midair. She hadn't been lying when she'd said it wouldn't take long – before he knew it, Edward was watching her attach the fingers to his hand. Her head was bent, her fair hair falling across her face, and Edward was seized by an inexplicable urge to kiss her.

"Dammit." Winry looked put out. "Your fingers aren't moving – I must've messed up the wiring a little. Do you mind if I take the arm off? It'll only take a minute."

"Sure, no problem." Edward still winced at the attachment of the nerves, but it had become far less painful that it used to be. Winry detached his arms and took the hand off, messing around with the wiring and making a low humming noise.

"There!" she said after a few minutes, looking confident. "That should do it. Come here, Ed, let me put this back for you." As he moved towards her, she positioned the arm in the port and rechecked the placement, patting her hands over the smooth metal surface.

It was strange, Edward mused – part of him had always, always belonged to her. Although he used his arm and leg as if they were a part of himself – and they were – the truth was, Winry had made them, and they'd belonged to her first. Why had it taken him so long to realize… to realize that maybe, it wasn't just his two limbs that belonged to her?

As Winry moved to finally attach the nerves, Edward opened his mouth to speak. He was left speechless momentarily as Winry's hands moved faster than he'd expected them to – but as soon as the nerve connection had been established, he rolled his shoulder and turned to her.

"Winry." His voice was soft, and he knew she was puzzled at the shy gentleness in it. "I… um…"

For goodness' sake, Edward thought to himself furiously, he was sixteen and a half years old! He shouldn't be having this much trouble speaking to a girl!

"You…?" Winry prompted, still looking vaguely bemused. "If you want to thank me, Ed, that's fine – it goes without saying, after all, right?" She smiled up at him. "Don't worry about it."

"I… yeah, that was it," Edward muttered, hating himself for being so weak. "Thanks again, Winry. You… you're the only one who can ever put me back together again."

And he left her wondering at those words.

* * *

"I suppose I don't need to worry about you busting up your auto-mail, now that you're just working at home, right?" Winry asked, grinning at him. Edward smirked, shrugging his shoulders leisurely.

"Well, who knows… I might just run afoul of an angry cow or something…"

"Ed, you hate cows," Winry reminded him.

"Precisely. Maybe they hate me, too."

She laughed and hugged him. Edward returned the hug easily, naturally – at least he wasn't feeling awkward about that anymore. She let go of him and turned to hug Alphonse and Pinako as well, looking a little teary as she pulled away.

"You two! Come visit soon, okay?" she ordered the Elric brothers. They glanced at each other, exchanged a knowing look and saluted at the exact same time.

"Aye aye, ma'am!" they chorused. Winry laughed again and swatted at them playfully.

"Now, Winry, you should hurry up – the train will be leaving soon." Granny Pinako looked fondly at her only grandchild and shooed her onto the train. "Look after yourself, do you hear? I'm not hauling myself all the way to Rush Valley if you fall sick."

"Of course not, granny." Everyone present knew that the old woman would do just that.

"Well, I guess this is it," Winry spoke after she'd taken her seat and neatly stored her trunk above her head. Her smile was brilliant and didn't waver, as Edward had been half-afraid it would. "Bye, guys."

The train whistled a warning as Winry leaned out of her window and embraced Edward and Alphonse once more. As she released them, her lips brushed against Edward's cheek, and he turned a startling crimson.

Winry took one look at his face and erupted into laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. Edward was glad that that was the last sight he had of her – her eyes screwed shut in laughter, her cheeks bright and rosy, and her golden hair streaming in the wind.

As they watched the train disappear, Edward turned to Pinako.

"Hey, granny – I just wanted to make a phone call. Okay if I do that now?"

"Certainly." The old woman looked puzzled, but she didn't pry any further. Alphonse shot his brother a cautious look, but Edward shrugged it off.

"Relax, Al, I'm not going to do anything _too_ dangerous," he grinned as he walked over to a counter and asked the man for the phone. The attendant handed it over without question, and Edward confidently rang up the number – he'd memorized it ages ago, although he hadn't expected using it for something like this.

"Hey, General. Yeah, yeah, it's a surprise for me, too… but I need a favour from you. Can you tell me the name and number of the best woodworker in Central?"

* * *

The journey to Rush Valley from Resembool took a few days, and Winry was mighty glad to be off the train once it pulled up at the auto-mail town. Train rides bored her to tears, especially if she was alone.

She spotted a familiar face in the crowd and waved, picking up her trunk and moving out of the car. "Master Garfiel!" she called, smiling from ear to ear. "Over here!"

"Ah, Winry, darling." Garfiel beamed. "I am so sorry about what I said over the phone… but goodness, my dear, I'm very glad to have you back!"

Winry's smile dimmed a little – she'd almost forgotten their phone conversation – but she shook her head in response to her master's apology. "That's okay, master Garfiel. It was partly my fault."

Garfiel did not respond. "Shall I take this for you, dear? It looks awfully heavy!" Garfiel tutted at the size of Winry's trunk. "Still, a girl must be prepared when she travels, hmm? Oh, all of your customers have been _so_ worried about you…"

Winry smiled ruefully. She knew some of Garfiel's business must have dipped while she was away – although most of her customers really didn't mind the man so much, a few of them had probably downright refused to be treated by him.

"I can't wait to see them," she said happily as she walked alongside her master.

"Oh, and there was one more thing," Garfiel added. "Something arrived for you yesterday. The man who delivered it said it had been quite a rush order, and he hoped it was in good condition. Thankfully, he said, Central isn't too far from Rush Valley."

"Central?" Winry's interest was piqued. "Something came from Central for me? What is it?"

"Ah, ah, ah." Garfiel placed a finger on the side of his nose. "I won't tell you that. You'll see for yourself."

Winry blinked, startled at her master's insistence on secrecy. "All right…"

Garfiel's shop was not far from the station, and Winry took her trunk back from him as it came into view. She smiled gladly at the familiar sight – her fingers were itching to be back at work.

She left her trunk by the entrance of the house – she'd take it upstairs later – and turned to her master, an expectant look on her face.

"So… where is it?" she asked eagerly, her mind still trying to guess who would have sent her something from Central. General Mustang? Unlikely. Colonel Hawkeye? Maybe…

"It's in your workshop, dear." The man shook his head, looking a little disgruntled. "I _did_ tell him to put it somewhere else, but he said he had strict orders and that he couldn't move it upstairs to your room, so…"

Winry's eyes widened. So then, it must have been something big… something big from Central, in her workshop… She moved across the landing towards her sanctuary, curiosity making her steps quicker than usual.

She opened the door slowly, holding her breath as it swung inwards. At first, nothing looked out of the ordinary, but then she turned her head to her right and saw it. Tears sprung to her eyes and her knees suddenly gave way.

"Winry!" Garfiel appeared at the door. "Winry, dear, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she sobbed, scrubbing vainly at her cheeks. "I'm… I'm…"

It was a magnificent mahogany upright piano, its every surface polished to gleaming perfection. She got to her feet and moved towards it, her fingers trembling slightly as she drew the cloth cover off to reveal the ivory keys. She pressed her hands to her mouth as she started to cry again, shocked and pleased at the same time.

"I think there's something engraved here," Garfiel commented, trying not to smile at Winry's outburst of emotion. He was glad that she was happy – but honestly, tears…?

He pointed to the portion of glossy wood just above the keys, where the manufacturer's name was usually displayed in elegant golden script. Winry rubbed the dampness off her face and leaned forward for a closer look.

There, in the dark brown wood of the piano, were carved exactly five words.

_Winry – I love you._

_Ed._

_

* * *

_

**AN: Ed's such a coward… can't say it to the girl herself, huh, Ed! x) I'm guessing Central is closer to Rush Valley than Resembool, and if it isn't… it was magic! Ta-da! Ha ha.**

**Chapter title means **_**always**_**. This is the last chapter – there's only the epilogue left.**


	12. Calore

_Amoroso_

**AN: I actually meant to put this up yesterday, on Arakawa-sensei's birthday, but I couldn't finish it in time… happy belated birthday anyway, Arakawa-sensei! **

**Disclaimer: **_**Fullmetal Alchemist**_** does not belong to me!**

**

* * *

**EPILOGUE: Calore

Two months.

It had been two months since Winry Rockbell had returned to Rush Valley, and Edward hadn't received any sort of contact from her even _once_. Admittedly, he was usually the one who called, not vice-versa, but that was because Winry often had no way of knowing where he would be. Now that she knew, without a doubt, that he was living in the Rockbell home… why, why hadn't she tried to contact him?

When he looked back on his behaviour during those months, Edward always laughed and cringed in equal measure. He was, in short, a nervous wreck. He stalked the hallways of the Rockbell home like a golden-haired, bad-tempered ghost, and he frequently answered Pinako and Alphonse's well-meaning queries with heated retorts.

Finally, it reached a point where he decided that he had to do _something_. Call her, maybe? It seemed like the best option, so Edward picked up the phone and dialed the number that had long ago become engraved in his mind. Garfiel answered – he could tell by the little sigh he made when he spoke. Edward sighed as well, nerving himself for the 'reunion'.

"Hi, Garfiel. Is Winry around?"

The man's voice seemed to sour as he replied, and Edward wasn't quite sure why. "I'm afraid she's busy, Fullmetal Alchemist. Perhaps you could call another time?" Without waiting for Edward to protest, Garfiel hung up.

Edward slowly lowered the phone from his ear and stared at it blankly. All right, so Winry was busy, but… she was too busy to even pick up the phone and call him? He felt vaguely irritated. Was she avoiding him? Why?

_Oh_. Maybe his gift hadn't been as well-received as he'd thought it would be. Maybe she was too embarrassed to talk to him, to tell him that she didn't feel that way for him. Edward's head hurt with all of the random thoughts racing through it.

He decided to ask Alphonse about Winry, and his younger brother's reply was quick and lacking hesitance. "Don't be ridiculous, brother. Winry's been in love with you for a long time. I'm sure that hasn't changed. She's probably just really busy, like mister Garfiel said."

Predictably, Edward seized upon only part of the sentence. "In love with me… what are you talking about?" he spluttered. Alphonse frowned at his brother – it wasn't a secret that Edward was irritatingly oblivious to normal human emotions like love, but _really_…

"Why are you reacting like this, brother? Especially since you've realized you love her, too. I thought you'd be happy?"

"Oh." Edward was quiet and thought about it for a while. "Oh, yeah. I guess I should be happy." He wandered off, and Alphonse wondered if his brother had gone into a state of shock.

* * *

"It's the only way to resolve all of this," the older Elric brother announced. Alphonse was secretly proud of his brother's determination to go visit Winry – it proved that Edward really was stubborn about the important things. He'd wanted to go visit Rush Valley, too – to see Paninya and the LeCourts and Garfiel – but he'd make that visit another time. Edward and Winry would probably want time alone. It made Alphonse feel a little strange, because he was so intimately tied to both of them, but this was one time that he couldn't include himself in their interactions.

"I agree," Alphonse smiled in reply. "Have fun in Rush Valley, brother, and don't destroy anyone's house again, okay?" He grinned teasingly at Edward, whose ears turned red.

"Neither of those times was my fault," he muttered rebelliously. Pinako shook her head indulgently at the brotherly banter and folded her arms.

"Take care of yourself, squirt, and hands off when it comes to my granddaughter," she spoke. Edward blushed and looked flustered, ducking his head to shove his trunk underneath the seat.

Alphonse decided that his brother had endured enough. "I think the train's about to leave, brother." He stepped back from the edge of the platform as the train whistle shrilled in warning. Edward gave a wave to his brother and his pseudo-grandmother, his eyes on them until they vanished from his sight. He leaned back in his seat with a sigh – the train ride was going to be long and boring, with no companionship.

Eventually, Edward managed to endure the entire trip – mostly by sleeping through it. When the whistle finally went off for Rush Valley and the conductor began to make his rounds, Edward roused himself and peered out of the window through groggy, half-lidded eyes.

"Finally," he grumbled, yawning widely and leaning over to pull out his trunk. He'd packed it with only the bare essentials – he wasn't sure how long he was going to stay, but there was definitely no need for months' worth of clothes. He got up from his seat, offered his companion for the journey – an elderly man – a faint smile and walked towards the exit of the train, his entire body wishing he could just magically appear at Garfiel's doorstep. He was anxious to speak to Winry and curious to know why she'd severed contact with him.

His feet took the path to Garfiel with instinctive ease – he'd walked the same route so many times before, but he was usually thinking up an excuse for wreaking his auto-mail that would save him from Winry's wrench. It wasn't often that he had leisure time to just stroll along and enjoy the surroundings. He still didn't, not completely – part of his mind was mulling over the girl he was going to meet, and he was almost embarrassed that he couldn't get her out of his mind.

"I guess this is how she felt when she went for months without hearing from us," he muttered to himself. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

When Garfiel's shop came into view, Edward tried to restrain himself from breaking into a full-out run – and then decided that that was pointless, and ran anyway. He arrived at Garfiel's doorstep a few minutes later, breathless and red-faced.

As if he had some sort of sixth sense, Garfiel opened the door just as Edward dropped his trunk on the ground and bent in half, hands on his knees and sides heaving. The auto-mail engineer looked at the young man in amusement before clearing his throat.

"Are you here for any particular reason?" Edward shot up at the sound of Garfiel's voice, and he tried to glower at the man. Unfortunately, his face faltered halfway and didn't become menacing enough.

"Yeah, I… needed… to speak to Winry…" he muttered, still trying to catch his breath. "Is… she… here?"

Garfiel was about to say that no, she'd gone out, but the tired determination on Edward's face stilled his words. "Yes," the man replied in an oddly gruff voice. "Come in, I'll call her."

Edward sucked in a deep lungful of air and threw back his shoulders, finally composed once more. He picked up his trunk and ventured inside, taking a seat at the well-worn table.

"Winry, dear! Someone's here to see you!" Edward tapped an irregular rhythm on the tabletop as both of them waited for the young auto-mail engineer. Finally, Winry appeared in the doorway, her blue eyes masked by a pair of work goggles. Her mouth dropped open and she yanked the goggles off hurriedly, staring at Edward in amazement.

"Well, then. I'll let you two be." Satisfied that his plan had worked, Garfiel disappeared into the interiors of the shop.

"Winry…" Edward breathed out, his cheeks quickly becoming a violent red once more. "Hey."

"Ed!" Winry flew towards him and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him painfully. "Oh my _goodness_, I missed you so much!"

Edward returned the hug instinctively. "But… what have you been up to all this time?" he asked, slipping out of her embrace as gently as he could. "Two months, and not a single word from you." He realized that his voice had become a lot deeper and huskier than it usually was, and swore at himself.

"I…" Winry looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Ed. Master Garfiel had me working pretty hard for the past few months. I didn't get much time off at all. I hope I didn't worry anyone too much."

Edward cast a dark glance in Garfiel's direction. He should have known that it was his fault.

"No, it's not like that… we were just surprised," he muttered in reply, still hesitant to express his individual concern over her. "You must be happy to be back, right?"

"Absolutely!" Winry beamed. "Come on, let me take you to my workshop – we can talk more comfortably there." She reached out and grasped his flesh wrist firmly. "And I want to show you something, too."

Edward's eyes widened in curiosity as he allowed himself to be dragged away by Winry. "Something to show me?" he echoed. "What sort of something?"

"You'll see," Winry sang as she released his wrist and shouldered open her workshop door. "Come in, come in!"

Edward ventured in, glancing around the room. He caught a glimpse of sunlight shining on dark wood and turned his head.

The upright sat in one corner of Winry's workshop, its mahogany sides sleek and unmarred. Winry had set a small photograph on top of it, and there was a short, round table with a single drawer that sat next to it. Edward guessed that she was storing sheet music in it. The table, too, had a few photograph frames. He walked closer to inspect them, catching sight of one familiar picture with a young Winry and her parents. There were a few pictures with granny Pinako, Den, Paninya… and Alphonse and himself, of course. Edward turned his attention to the single photograph sitting on top of the piano.

It wasn't what he'd expected. Since she'd kept the piano and had hardly treated him coldly, he guessed that she felt the same way. So maybe he'd expected a picture of just the two of them, yelling at each other or laughing together or _something_. Instead, it was a photograph of his sleeping face. His mouth wasn't open, like it usually was, and his hair was scattered around on his pillow. He wasn't sure when it was taken, but it must have been early morning or so, since there was light on his face.

Edward stared at the photograph thoughtfully. "Why this one?" he finally asked. Winry moved next to him and gazed at the photograph as well, her hand knocking gently against his.

"Because I think this is the you I love the most – the one who's dropped all of his defenses and lets the world in. Lets _me_ in." She tilted her head up and smiled at him, her eyes shining.

"Of course, I understand that you don't do that only when you're sleeping, but I think this picture expresses it the best," she added. Edward's pulse throbbed.

There wasn't any need to say more. There wasn't any need for them to both declare their undying love for each other. He intertwined his fingers with hers and drew her close, and she rested her head on his shoulder for a brief moment. He moved closer to the piano and sat down – she sat with him, their legs rubbing together. She started to play, and he started to sing – softly, almost as an afterthought.

_Far away from here,  
Over the shining sea,  
There's a voice, so very dear  
Calling "Some things are meant to be."_

_Far away from here,  
Over brown hills and lea,  
We'd never met and loved at all  
Never seen the deep blue sea._

Her fingers stopped and his picked up from where she'd left off. He watched her out of the corners of his eyes as he played, watched how her eyes softened and how her lips mouthed along to the words.

When he finished, they sat together in the comfortable silence. Her hand rested on his knee, and his hand rested on top of hers, and he felt _warmth_ coursing through his body – but it wasn't the aching warmth of embarrassment or the fierce fire of anger and temper. It was a gentler, more natural warmth, and when his eyes met hers, they both smiled together.

In their own way, they had both already acknowledged it and even said it. So when Winry rested her head on his shoulder again, Edward felt no hurry to seize her and kiss the living daylights out of her.

After all, they had all the time in the world.

* * *

**AN: Um. Yeah. That wasn't the best ending, but I didn't want to write a kiss, because I'd never be able to manage that! My kiss scenes are really bad.**

**I like the idea that Ed and Winry don't have to outwardly acknowledge to anyone else that they love each other. It's like they both just know, instinctively. Of course, in the **_**actual**_** manga, I certainly hope they do… so yeah. For clarification's sake, Ed spontaneously thought of the new verse to the lullaby. Or did he plan it in advance so that he could sing it to Winry? Who knows? Not even I do! ^^;;**

**And that, my friends, is that. I'm so happy you stuck through with me all this time. Thank you for bearing with me and for liking this story. (:**

**Title means **_**warmth**_**.**


End file.
